That's Amore (A Moonstruck Adaption)
by gem6519
Summary: Clark Kent gets engaged to Lois Lane, but sparks fly when he meets her ex-boyfriend. SLASH.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **I have really _tried_ to keep it down to an R-rated story. Whether or not I've succeeded is another story _altogether_. *shrugs*

This is an AU story that is based on one of my all-time _favorite _movies. I will be using dialogue and scenes from the movie. There will be dramatic moments at times, but it's mainly a romantic/sexy story with comedic elements to it – in other words, like the movie itself. _A la Familia!_

I also want to mention that Clark will not have _any _powers in this story and Jonathan and Martha are his biological parents. There are no meteor freaks, kryptonite, Justice League, etc. You may spot various _Smallville_ and _Superman_ references though.

* * *

**Prologue**

Clark walks out of the coffee shop carrying two cups, one a hazelnut latte and the other a vanilla eggnog sprinkled with cinnamon. He stops at the corner and waits for a tractor trailer to pass him by before crossing the street.

_Metropolis Opera Scenic Shop_, he reads off the side of the truck as it continues on its way down the street.

_The opera must be coming to town, _he thinks to himself as he finally crosses the street. Once he reaches the other side, he makes a right and continues on his way back to the Daily Planet. As he walks down the hall he sees Perry White, the Editor-In-Chief, barging into the office he shares with Lois, his partner-in-crime.

"Great Caesar's Ghost, Lane!" Clark hears him bellow. "How many times do I have to remind you to use spell-check before handing in an article?" slamming a piece of paper down on her desk.

"I want this corrected and sent back to me before you leave tonight!" turning around and storming away before she could utter a single word.

"Geez, what was that all about?" Clark asks as he comes into the office and places the latte down on the desk in front of her.

"I misspelled a few words and he took a fit," she replies as she leans back in her chair with a sigh.

He sits down on the edge of her desk. "Just a _few _words?" arching one of his brows.

"Alright," she scowls. "It was more than a few," she scowls as she grabs the cup. "Can we _please_ drop it?" she mutters as she pulls off the lid and takes a sip.

"Of course," he replies as he hops off the desk and walks around their partner's desk to sit down.

She watches with interest as he takes off his glasses and uses a soft cloth to carefully wipe the lenses.

"You have such beautiful blue eyes, Smallville. Why don't you get contacts instead of wearing those things?" she asks.

He rolls his eyes as he puts the glasses back on. "How many times do I have to tell you that I like wearing them."

"Bull," she says with a snort. "You're just being stubborn and pigheaded. That's the real reason."

"No, I'm not," he retorts back.

"Maybe if you changed your appearance a little, you might attract the man of your dreams," ignoring his last comment.

He leans back in his chair. "I'm not going to change how I look just for some non-existent guy, Lois."

"I'm not talking about a major change you know," she counters. "Just contacts and maybe coloring that gray you have in your hair."

"I think my hair looks fine," he responds back. "It make me look distinguished," running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair.

"That may be fine for someone like your father, but you're still young," she tells him.

"I'm thirty-seven years old, Lois. I can't go around looking like a teenager for the rest of my life."

She throws her hands up. "I give up. There's just no getting through to you."

"Good," he says with a triumphant grin. "Now that that's settled, are we still on for dinner tonight?" he changes the subject.

"There's _nothing _will prevent us from having dinner tonight," she replies with a smile of her own. "I just have to run this article through spell-check and then we can go."

"I can do that for you," he offers. "Just send it to me and I can proofread it in less than ten minutes."

"That would be great," she beams as she pulls up her email account and immediately sends it to him.

Clark smiles when he sees the new message in his inbox. "That certainly didn't take you long. You must have the ability to super-click," he says in a teasing tone.

"_Don't_ push it, Smallville," she warns him. "Just do it so we can get out of here."

He chuckles to himself and clicks on the email. It took him exactly the amount of time he predicted to scan the article and to make the necessary corrections before he clicks on 'send.' "All done," he says.

"Great," she declares as she immediately sends it on over to Perry, then logs out of her computer.

"Let's go for that dinner. I'm starving," she says as she rises from her chair and walks over to their office door.

"Right behind you," he says as he follows her out the door and into the hallway.

**The Grand Ticino**

"So have you finished your Christmas shopping yet?" Clark asks as they walk into the restaurant.

"Not yet," she replies as they sit down at their regular table. "I still have to get something for my father and my sister. How about you?"

"I just have to get a few more and then I'm done," he replies as he picks up the menu the waiter set down in front of him. "So what are you going to have?" he asks as he scans the menu. "I think I'm going to have the lasagna," he tells the waiter as he hands the menu back to him.

"And you, Miss?" the waiter turns to Lois.

"I think I'll have the fish special," she tells the waiter.

"I don't think you should have the oily fish, not before the plane ride," Clark pipes up.

"Why not?" Lois asks him curiously.

"_Need _I remind you of what happened when we flew to Geneva for that peace conference a few years ago?" Clark asks her.

"You're right," agreeing with him. "So what _do_ you think I should have?"

"The manicotti would be a good choice," he replies.

"Then that's what I'll have," handing the menu to the waiter at last. "You always look out for me," she smiles while gazing at him. When they hear a familiar voice coming from a table half way across the room, they both look over.

"Patricia, please don't go," the man's voice rising as she pulls on her coat.

"What do you think I am a talking dog?" the woman snaps at him while putting on her hat and gloves.

"I was just making a point about the way you said…the way you stated your aspirations."

"Well you can _kiss_ my aspirations!" picking up her water glass and throwing the contents on his lap before storming out of the restaurant.

He bolts up from his chair. "Kiss my aspirations. Oh, very clever. The height of cleverness," he retorts in a loud voice as he picks up a napkin and wipes down the front of his trousers. "Waiter," he calls out."

"Yes?"

"Could you do away with her dinner, and any evidence of her, and bring me a big glass of vodka?"

"Absolutely," he replies in a firm tone as he clears the table.

"I don't believe it!" Lois' jaw dropping. "That's Mr. White," shaking her head in disbelief.

"That's definitely _not_ his wife," Clark remarks. "She's got to be at _least_ twenty years younger than him."

"Do you think that he and Alice broke up?" Lois asks Clark. When he just shrugs his shoulders, she asks, "Aren't you curious to know, Smallville?"

He looks up at her and shakes his head. "What Mr. White does in private is _none_ of our business," he replies. "Can we drop the subject and talk about something else?" directing his gaze back at his salad.

"It's funny you say that because there _is_ something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now."

He looks up at her again. "That sounds serious," putting down his fork. "What is it?" he asks while picking up his water glass and taking a sip.

"Will you marry me?"

He does a spit take and stares back at her in shock. "_What _did you just say?"

"I said, _Will you marry me_?" she asks again.

"Since when do you want to get married?" a confused look on his face.

"Since I realized that I want to have a baby – and I know you want one too," she says in a wistful tone.

"But don't you want to wait until you meet the right man?" he asks.

"The right man doesn't exist," she says with finality. "I thought my ex-boyfriend might have been the one, but he said he wasn't ready to make a commitment," she says with a sigh.

"I know you were devastated by the break-up, but you shouldn't let that discourage you," holding her hand in his.

"Nope," shaking her head and letting go of his hand. "I'm going to be thirty-eight on my next birthday, Clark. I didn't just wake up this morning and decide to have a baby. I _need_ to have a baby."

"But why do you want to have one with me?"

She gazes into his blue-green eyes. "Because I know you would be a wonderful father, that's why," she answers.

Clark hesitates a moment before he replies. "I'm gay, Lois, or have you forgotten?"

"I haven't forgotten," she replies. "Didn't you just tell me the other day after that disastrous blind date that you were giving up on ever finding the right man to spend the rest of your life with?"

"I know I said that, but-"

"But, nothing," she answers. "We both want to be married with children. We may not be in love with each other romantically, but we do love each other. Why should we be alone by ourselves when we could be alone together?" reaching out to take his hand again.

They both sit there in silence just picking at their salads for a few moments before Clark stands up. "If we're going to do this, then we're going to do it right," walking over to her side of the table and getting down on one knee.

"Will you marry me?"

She looks down at him. "Where's the ring?"

"Huh?" staring up at her with a perplexed look.

"When you propose to a woman, you should offer her a ring of engagement," she tells him.

"You're right," a thoughtful look on his face. "I'll be right back," he says, getting up and walking out of the restaurant, not returning until about twenty minutes later.

"What took you so long?" she asks as he sits back down. "Your food is cold you know."

"Sorry about that," he apologizes. "It's times like this when I wish I had super-speed," he quips as he pulls out a small box. "I had to run to the house and get this," opening the box and holding out a diamond ring. "Will this do?"

She takes the ring from him and studies it for a moment. "Isn't this your mothers engagement ring?" looking at him curiously as she hands it back to him.

"It is," he replies. "She told me after my wife died that I could use it if I ever decided to marry again."

"But doesn't she know you're gay?" a confused look on her face.

"She knows," he answers.

"But why…"

"Neither of my parents knew at the time. I didn't even admit it to myself until about a month before my wife died that I _was_ gay," he tells her.

"You never _did_ tell me that story," looking at him curiously.

"_Now_ is not the time to talk about it."

"I understand," a soft smile on her face. "It could wait."

"I appreciate that," returning her smile as he continues with what he was saying. "When I finally told them, she insisted on giving me the ring anyway - _just_ in case."

"Are you sure she won't mind you giving it to me?" she questions him.

He smiles back at her. "I don't think she'll mind at all," he replies as he gets back down on one knee and holds the ring in front of her. "Lois Joanne Lane. On my knee, in front of all these people. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, Clark Joseph Kent. I will marry you. I will be your wife," she answers as the whole restaurant begins to clap and applaud.

Clark smiles at her as he slips the ring on her finger. They both stand up and quickly kiss before sitting back down.

"We need some champagne here," he calls out to the waiter. "We're getting married," looking over at his bride-to-be with a smile.

"We sure are," she smiles back just before her phone rings. "Who could be calling me now?" rolling her eyes as she pulls out her phone and checks the caller id. She looks up at Clark. "It's my sister," a worried expression on her face. "I'll be right back," she tells Clark as she answers the phone while walking away from the table.

The waiter comes back with the champagne. "Where is your lovely bride-to-be?" he asks as he carefully pops the cork and begins to pour the champagne into two glasses.

"She had a phone call," Clark tells him. "She'll be right back."

"Well congratulations to you both," the waiter says with a smile before turning around and taking his leave.

Lois comes back a minute later and sits down. "Lois?" he asks but she continues staring straight ahead. When she doesn't answer, he slides his chair over next to her. "Lois?" he asks one more time while taking her hand.

She finally looks up with tears in her eyes. "It's my father," she replies in an emotional voice. "He just had a stroke and is being rushed to Walter Reed."

They sit there for a few moments until Lois breaks the silence. "I have to go to him," she says while putting her coat on.

"I'll go with you," he says as he picks up the check.

"No," shaking her head.

"Lois-"

"No," she repeats. "My sister will be there so I won't be alone."

"But I feel like I need to do _something_," he replies.

She rests her hands on his shoulders. "You can bring me home so I could pack a bag, then take me to the airport. _That's_ what you can do."

"Okay," lightly touching her cheek.

**Two hours later…**

"We'll talk about the wedding when you get back," Clark says as they approach Metropolis International Airport.

"We don't have to do that. When I come back we'll get married."

He nods his head in agreement. "So how bad _was_ it anyway?" he asks as they enter the airport.

"I don't know," she sighs as he parks in the reserved parking lot. "I'll find out when I get there."

"Are you _sure_ you don't want me to come with you?" he asks as they both get out of the car.

"I'm sure," she says as he pulls her suitcase out of the trunk. They both stand there for a moment. "How about we get married on Valentine's Day?" she asks him.

"That's almost two months from now," he remarks thoughtfully. "That's fine with me, but what if your father isn't better by then?" he asks as he hands her the suitcase.

"Then we'll just deal with it at that time," she replies.

"Alright," he says as they walk through the main entrance and towards the boarding area. "I'll take care of everything. You just have to show up."

They both look up when her flight is announced for boarding. She leans forward to give him a peck on the cheek. "I'll call you when I arrive," pulling away.

"You do that," he says and watches as she gets into line.

"Oh," turning around and walking back over to him. "Can you do me a favor and call this number?" pulling out a card from her purse and handing it to him.

"Okay," taking it from her and reading it. "Oliver Queen?" looking up at her. "Isn't he the ex-boyfriend that I never got to meet because I was backpacking through Europe at the time?"

"He's the one," Lois replies. "Please invite him to the wedding."

"You're the one who broke up with him. Why would he even come to the wedding?"

"There are extenuating circumstances that you're unaware of. Can we just leave it at that for now?"

"If it's that important to you, then I'll do it," pocketing the card.

"Thanks," giving him one more peck on the cheek before turning around and walking away. "See you soon," she waves once more as she gets back into line.

"Do you think you'll be back in time for Christmas or…" he calls out to her.

She turns around and looks back at him. "I don't know," shrugging her shoulders.

"Alright," he waves again and begins to walk towards the main entrance, but decides instead to wait until her plane takes off. He sits down on one of the chairs and picks up a magazine and begins to read until he hears the announcement that her flight was taking off. He walks over to one of the windows and gazes up at the full moon for a few moments before directing his gaze at the plane.

An elderly woman dressed in black and wearing a lacy black scarf on her head walks over to stand next to him. "Do you have someone on that plane?" she asks him.

"Yeah, my fiancée," he smiles.

"I have put a curse on that plane. My sister is on that plane. I have put a curse on that plane that it should explode. Burn on fire and fall into the sea. Fifty years ago she stole a man from me. Today she told me that she didn't even love him, that she took him to be strong on me. We had a big fight about it and now she's going back to Sicily. I have cursed her that the green Atlantic water should _swallow_ her up," shaking her fist up towards the plane.

"But that plane is going straight to Washington, D.C. It's not even _flying_ over water," giving her a curious look.

She turns her head and stares at him. "That's not the 604 flight heading for Rome and Palermo?"

"No," shaking his head. "I think _that_ one is Flight 604," pointing to another plane.

"Oh," a sheepish expression on her face. "Well then, I apologize for cursing the wrong plane."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I really don't believe in curses," Clark says, looking up anxiously as the plane taxies down the runway.

"Neither do I," she replies as they both watch the plane take off into the clear night sky…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

**On the way home…**

Clark winds his way skillfully through the Metropolis traffic and doesn't stop until he reaches Lois' apartment building. After he parks her car in her assigned spot, he begins to make the long walk home.

He takes his time to admire the beautiful Christmas light displays he sees along the way. He stops in front of one house and smiles when he hears his all-time favorite, _The Christmas Song_, coming from inside. When the song is finished, he continues walking and soon comes across a small store called _Sweetheart Wines & Liquors._ He has a sudden inspiration and decides to go inside.

"I've heard that song before," he hears as he enters the store and walks up to the counter where an older couple was apparently having a 'spirited' discussion.

"What _are_ you talking about? I see the way you look at her and it isn't right," the woman says in a terse tone.

"How do I look at her?" the man asks in a raised voice as he turns to Clark. "Can I help you?"

"A split of Moet," Clark tells him.

"Like a wolf," she replies.

"Like a wolf, huh? You've never seen a wolf in your life," he retorts as he gets the split and places it in a brown paper bag. "That's $11.99," he tells Clark.

Clark takes out his wallet and pulls out a bill. As he waits for his change the woman says, "I've seen a wolf in everybody I've met and I see a wolf in you."

The man comes back with the change. "That makes twenty," laying the money in Clark's outstretched hand. "Merry Christmas."

"And the same to you," Clark replies and grabs the bottle. As he starts to walk away, the man turns to his wife.

"You know what I see in you?"

"What?" she asks.

"The girl I married."

She's caught off guard and can't help blushing. Clark pauses in the opened doorway for a moment to watch the tender scene, wishing for a moment that he could have what they have. Sighing, he exits the store and continues on his way.

**A short time later…**

Clark crosses the street and arrives at the three-story corner brownstone that he calls home. He hears the sound of a dog barking coming from the partially darkened house as he climbs the stairs and inserts his key into the lock, then opening the door. "Hey boy," bending over to pet Shelby's head and ruffle his ears. "Guess what happened to me tonight." Shelby's response is to give him a quick lick on the nose before running up the stairs.

_It must be him_ by Vicky Carr wafts through the air as he locks the door. "Dad?" he calls out as he sets the bottle down on the side table in the hallway

"Over here," a deep voice calls out from the living room, lit only by the gaily decorated Christmas tree in the corner.

Clark walks into the room. "Where's Mom?" he asks while sitting down on the couch.

"She went to bed early," Jonathan replies as he looks up at his son.

"Why aren't you in bed too?"

"I can't sleep any more. It's too much like death," Jonathan replies with a sigh.

"I see," Clark remarks, not really understanding what his father meant. "Dad, I have news."

"Alright. Let's go into the kitchen," he says as he lowers the footrest of his recliner and stands up. Clark gets up and follows his father into the kitchen.

Jonathan sits down at the head of the table and watches as Clark opens the bottle he had bought earlier and pours the contents into two old-fashioned champagne glasses, adding a sugar cube to each glass. Clark takes a seat to his father's left and hands him one of the glasses.

"Ti amo," he raises his glass towards his father. Jonathan looks at him curiously. "That's Italian for _I love you_," Clark explains.

"I _know_ what it means," scowling slightly as their glasses clink.

"You look tired," Clark reaches out to lightly tousle his father's hair as he sips his champagne.

"What's your news?" Jonathan asks without responding to Clark's comment.

Clark takes a deep breath, slowly exhaling before he sets down his glass. "I'm getting married."

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"You did this once before and it didn't work out."

"She died."

"I know that," Jonathan retorts. "Don't you think I know that?"

"Of course I do," Clark responds in an exasperated tone.

"What killed her?"

"She got hit by a bus."

"No!" Jonathan exclaims. "Bad luck. Your mother and I have been married over forty years and nobody has died. You were married for only two years and somebody died. Don't get married again, Clark. It won't work out for you."

"It's not bad luck," Clark snaps back. "My marriage wouldn't have worked out in the long run anyway and you know damn well why."

"Because you're gay," his father responds.

"That's right."

"So why get married again?"

Clark just sighs as he takes a sip from his glass. "Because it doesn't look like _my_ Mr. Right will ever come along and I want to have another kid before I'm too old to enjoy him or her. _That's_ why."

Jonathan gazes at his son for a moment and notices the wistful expression on his face. "Who's the lucky woman?"

"Lois."

"_Lois?_ Jonathan's eyes widening. "Isn't she the one that drives you crazy?"

"Lois and I get along pretty good," he replies in her defense.

"Why her?" his father asks next.

"She wants to have kids as much as I do. In fact, it was her idea to get married in the first place."

"So why isn't she here with you telling me?"

"She's on a plane to Washington as we speak. Her father had a stroke and-"

"_More_ bad luck!" Jonathan shakes his head.

"It's not bad luck!" Clark insists.

"When is the big day?" Jonathan changes the subject.

"We've decided to get married on Valentine's Day."

"I won't come."

"You've _got_ to come," resting his hand over his fathers. "You're the father of the groom after all."

"I wasn't there the first time," his father counters back.

"I know, and I'm really sorry about that," Clark says with regret while resting his hand over his fathers. "That was a _big_ mistake. We never should have eloped and gotten married at City Hall without you and Mom being there."

"No," Jonathan shakes his head empathically and throws off Clark's hand. "Your _big_ mistake was that you should have never married her. Period." Clark doesn't say anything, instead sipping some more of the champagne. "You _know_ I'm right," Jonathan speaks up after a few moments of silence. "Why go through all that again?"

Clark looks up at Jonathan. "I already told you and I'm not going to repeat myself," standing up. "So you'll still come to the wedding?"

Jonathan rolls his eyes. "Let's go tell your mother," shaking his head as he rises from the table and heads towards the stairs.

**Upstairs…**

Jonathan opens the door to the master bedroom, the light from the hall dimly illuminating the bedroom. Clark follows him inside and they walk over to the four-poster bed. "Martha. Martha. Martha. Martha," calling out her name a little louder each time.

The bedside lamp switches on and she looks up at her husband. "Who's dead?" are the first words out of her mouth.

"Nobody," Jonathan replies. "Clark is getting married."

"Again?" she sits up. "Lois?"

Jonathan looks at her curiously as Clark sits down on the edge of the bed. "You don't sound shocked, Martha."

"That's because I'm not," she replies. "I always figured that Clark would marry her someday."

"I don't believe this!" Jonathan throws up his hands in exasperation. "Clark's gay. How could you believe that they would ever marry?"

"Because I know they both want kids and-"

"Well I don't like it," Jonathan interrupts.

"You're not gonna marry her, Jonathan," turning to Clark and taking his hand. "Do you love her?"

"No," shaking his head.

"Good. When you love them they drive you crazy because they know they can. But you _like_ her?"

"I do," he smiles back at her. "We'll even have the big church wedding you've always wanted me to have," reaching out to touch his Mom's cheek. "And a big reception too."

"And who's going to pay for that?"

"Pop," he replies.

"WHAT?" Jonathan stares at Clark in shock.

Martha starts laughing when she sees the expression on her husband's face. "Clark, honey, I think you've forgotten that it's the bride's family that pays for the wedding."

"I already told Lois that I would take care of everything," he tells his mother.

Jonathan abruptly gets up and walks out of the room. "I have no money!" he yells out as he heads down the stairs.

"You're rich as Roosevelt. You're just cheap, Jonathan," she calls out after him.

"I won't pay for anything," he yells out again.

Martha lays her head back down on the pillow. "He never used to be cheap," she says. "He thinks if he holds onto his money, he'll never die. I don't know," sighing while folding her arms across her chest. "Something's been bothering him lately and I have no idea what it is. Do you?" she asks Clark.

"When I came home tonight and I asked him why he wasn't sleeping, he replied that he couldn't sleep anymore because it felt like death," Clark tells her.

"He's been talking a lot about death lately," Martha replies in a wistful tone. "I just wish he could talk to me about it." She stops talking when she hears _It must be him_ playing again.

"Now he's gonna play that damn Vicki Carr record over and over again and when he _does _comes to bed, he won't touch me," she says in a weary voice.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Clark says softly as he leans over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm going to see if Kara is up before I go to sleep, so I'll see you in the morning," getting up from the bed and walking towards the opened doorway.

"Send her and the family my love, alright?"

"Will do," he says as he starts to step out into the hallway.

"Clark?"

He turns around. "Yes, Mom?"

"Ti amo."

He smiles at her. "Ti amo," he says as he closes the door behind him and heads to his bedroom. After he changes into his pajama bottoms and t-shirt, he props up a couple pillows behind him and boots up his laptop. Once it comes online, he logs into Skypeand is happy to see that his sister is online. He clicks on 'video call' and waits for it to dial. "Hi, Sis," he says with a smile after it connects.

"Hi, Clark," smiling back at him.

"Did I wake you?" he asks as he settles back against the pillows with the laptop propped up on his lap.

"No, the baby woke me," she says while trying to stifle a yawn. "I couldn't get back to sleep so I thought I'd check and see if you might be on. I was going to sign off in another ten minutes if you weren't online."

"Well I'm glad you decided to stay on for a few more minutes because I have news. _Big_ news as a matter of fact," he says as he takes off his glasses and sets them down on the bedside table.

"Oh?" one of her brows rising.

"Brace yourself," he hesitates for a moment. "I'm getting married again."

Her mouth forms an 'o' and she stares back at him with slowly widening eyes. "_Wait_ a minute. Did I just hear you say that you're getting married again?"

"You heard right," he replies.

"Wow," shaking her head with astonishment. "So who are you marrying? That cute guy from the sports department at the Planet?"

"No," shaking his head.

"Then who?" she asks.

"It's Lois."

She starts to say something, then closes her mouth, then does it again. "I…ah…um…well…I just…" she stammers.

"You're not the only one to be shocked," he said with a sigh. "Dad was too."

"Of course he'd be shocked," finding her voice again. "What about Mom?"

"She wasn't surprised because she had figured on us getting married someday."

"Why would she think that?"

"Because she knows that I want to have another kid so…" his words trailing off.

"Don't you want to wait until you meet your Mr. Right?"

"He doesn't exist," shaking his head sadly. "Like I just told Dad, I want to have another kid while I'm still young enough to enjoy him or her."

"But, Clark-"

"No 'buts.' I've made up my mind. Lois and I are getting married on Valentine's Day so I hope you'll be able to make it."

"Of course I'll be there. We'll all be there. You're my big brother and I love you. Just let me know when you have the details finalized so that I can make the plane reservations and all that stuff."

"I will," he smiles but then finding himself yawning.

"It must be catching," she says as she yawns again.

"I guess so," he replies. "It's been a long day all around."

"You don't know the meaning of the word 'tired' until you have a three year old kid running around as if he has super-speed."

"I look forward to that," he answers back.

She smiles at him. "I know you're going to be a _wonderful_ father, Clark."

"It means a lot to hear that especially coming from you."

"I meant every word of it."

"I know you did," he smiles back. "Well, I guess we should say goodnight."

"Okay," she replies. "Don't forget to keep in touch."

"I won't," he promises. "Don't you forget to give my niece and nephew a hug and a kiss from their Uncle Clark and from their grandmother."

"I won't forget."

"Love you," blowing her a kiss.

"Love you too," returning the kiss just before she signs off.

After he shuts down his computer, he turns the light off and pulls the comforter over himself and closes his eyes, a soft smile on his face while the images of his future kids dance in his head…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

**The next morning…**

Martha was in the kitchen making breakfast when Clark came in, stretching his arms out and yawning. "Good morning," coming over to her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "So where's Dad? Isn't he having breakfast?" he asks as he grabs a potholder and picks the blue coffee pot off the stove.

"He went out. I have no idea where," she sighs as she drops an egg sunny side up in the middle of a slice of bread already toasting in the cast-iron pan.

"That smells good," Clark remarks as he pours some coffee into a mug. "Is that pimento?" looking into the pan.

"Pimentos and green peppers," she replies as she sautés them alongside the bread with eggs. "So how is your sister? How are my grandbabies?"

"The whole family is fine," he replies.

"So will they be here for Christmas?"

"I told you when I talked to her the other day that they won't be able to make it this year," he tells her.

"That's right, I forgot," she sighs again.

He sets his mug down on the kitchen table and pulls out a couple of blue plates out of the china cabinet. "So I thought I should mention that I think there's something wrong with the shower in the bathroom. It could be the pipes but I'm not sure. We really should call someone."

"Your father called Mr. Castorini this morning. He'll be by in the next day or so to look at it.

"Good," he says as he stirs some sugar and milk in his coffee.

"So will you live here?" she asks while flipping the eggs over.

"No," he answers back as he begins to drink his coffee.

"Why not?"

"Dad doesn't like Lois," he says with a sigh as he walks over to Martha with the plates and sets them down on the counter next to the stove.

"That's not true," she replies as she puts one egg-bread combo on each plate and places the sautéed peppers and pimento on top of each one. "Your father _does_ like her. He just has a hard time showing it," trying to reassure him.

"I don't know about that," Clark replies with a frown as he picks up one of the plates and sets it down on the table. "Lois has a huge apartment and I'm sure she'll want to live there," he says as he pulls up a chair and sits down.

"Is that what you want?" Martha asks as she brings her plate over and sits down next to him.

"I would _love_ to live here, but I just don't think that Lois and Dad would get along," taking a bite but then setting his fork down.

She looks at him with concern etched on her face. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Not really," leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

"You need to eat something," she insists.

"Okay, okay," taking another bite. "_Happy_ now?"

"Ecstatic," she smiles back.

Clark can't help chuckling as he starts to take another bite, but then the phone rings. "I'll get it," he says and gets up. "Hello," he answers. "Hi, Lois," he says with a smile.

"Clark, hi," she answers back in a tired voice.

"How was the plane ride?" he asks.

"Long," she replies.

"So how _is_ your father?" he asks while leaning against the wall.

"He made it through the night," she tells him. "I might have to stay a few extra days though."

"I'm really sorry to hear that," he replies. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm afraid not," trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. "I was going to tell him we were getting married, but he was asleep when I finally got in to see him. I'll wait until he wakes up and see how he is then."

"I think that's a good idea," agreeing with her.

"So did you call Oliver yet?" she asks.

"Not yet," he tells her. "I was going to do it today."

"Good," she says. "Let me know when you do, alright?"

"Alright," he replies. "Keep me informed on your father's condition, okay?"

"You know I will," a smile in her voice. "Bye, Clark."

"Bye, Lois," he hangs up. "Now _where_ did I put that card?" muttering under his breath. "Oh yeah," walking over to the bulletin board.

"So how is her father?" his mother asks as she drinks her orange juice.

"He made it through the night," he replies as he pulls off the card that Lois had given him the night before.

"_Now_ who are you calling?" Martha looks at him curiously as he picks up the receiver and dials the number.

"Lois wants me to invite an old boyfriend of hers to the wedding," he tells her as he waits for someone to answer.

"Queen Industries. How may I direct your call?" the operator asks him.

"Oliver Queen, please," Clark answers back.

"Just one moment," the operator says, transferring the call.

"This is Oliver Queen."

"Hello…uh…I'm…calling for Lois Lane and…uh...she's getting married and she would like it if you would come."

There's a long pause before he answers. "Why didn't she call herself?"

"She's in Washington, D.C. right now visiting her sick father," Clark tells him.

"I'm sorry to hear about her father, but there's no way in _hell_ you'll see me at her wedding," Oliver replies in a terse tone.

"Let me come down and talk…_talk_ to you-" Clark stares at the phone in shock when he hears the dial tone. "Animal!" slamming down the phone. "_What_ an animal!" he scowls as he storms out of the room.

Martha just shakes her head as she clears the table.

Clark goes upstairs and changes into his jeans and a blue flannel shirt, then comes back downstairs and walks over to the coat rack.

"Aren't you going to work today?" Martha asks as he puts on his red jacket.

"Mr. White gave Lois and I the day off," he replies as he zips it up. "I have a few errands to run, then I'll go see Mr. Queen so I won't be home for lunch."

"Christmas shopping?" she asks.

"Yeah," he replies as he wraps the red and blue scarf that his mother knitted for him around his neck.

"Don't forget your hat and gloves," Martha holds them out to him as he opens the front door. "It's a little nippy out there today."

"_Yes_, Mom," rolling his eyes and taking them from her.

"Try not to lose your temper when you talk to Mr. Queen. Alright?"

"I'll try, but I can't make any guarantees," he replies.

"And don't forget your glasses."

"Okay," pulling them out of his pocket and putting them on.

"Don't forget that Jimmy and Chloe will be over for dinner tonight," she reminds him as he puts the hat and gloves on.

"Is there anything else I shouldn't forget?" he asks in an annoyed tone.

"Nope, that's it," she grins widely.

"See you tonight," giving her a peck on the cheek before waving at her as he goes down the front stairs.

**Later that afternoon…**

After briefly stopping by the house to put the Christmas presents he bought in his room, Clark finally heads for the building that houses the Queen Industries headquarters. _Wow! _ he mutters under his breath as he stares at the imposing structure. _Well, here goes nothing, _squaring his shoulders and walking through the front doors. He walks up to the reception desk. "I'm here to see Oliver Queen?" he tells the man.

"He left about ten minutes ago," the man tells him regretfully.

"Do you have _any_ idea when he'll be back?"

"No," he replies with a shake of his head. "He usually spends Wednesday and Friday afternoons baking bread at a bakery he co-owns a few blocks away from here."

"He owns a _bakery?"_ Clark looks at her curiously.

"He co_-_owns it," correcting Clark. "He's a billionaire. He can do whatever the hell he wants," he shrugs his shoulders.

_Now __that's__ interesting. _"Can you give me the name of the bakery?" Clark asks next.

"Cammareri's," he tells him. "Just make a left and go down about three blocks. It's on the corner. You can't miss it."

"Thank you very much," Clark smiles. "Have a nice day and a Merry Christmas to you," he waves back as he turns around and leaves.

"Merry Christmas to you too," he replies, his eyes lingering on Clark's backside as he walks toward the front doors. _No, thank __you_, a smile on his face as Clark exits the building.

**Cammareri's Bakery**

Clark walks into the bakery and heads towards the counter. He waits patiently in line as the guy behind the counter slips a long loaf of bread into a paper bag and folds over the edges. "Thanks, Mrs. Fugocci. Here you go," the guy says in a friendly tone as he hands the bread over to her. "Bye. See you tomorrow," smiling at them.

"Thanks, Chrissy. See you tomorrow," Mr. Fugocci replies back with a smile. "Come on honey," leading his wife out of the bakery.

He turns to Clark. "May I help you?"

"Is Oliver Queen here?"

"He's down at the ovens. What do you want?" he asks in a decidedly _unfriendly_ tone.

"I want to talk to him," Clark narrows his eyes.

Chrissy looks Clark up and down with a slight frown. "Follow me," coming from around the counter and walking out the door. Clark follows him as they turn the corner. "This way," walking down the stairs to the basement where the ovens are located. "Ollie," he calls out.

"What?" a voice calls out.

"Someone here to see you," Chrissy calls out to him as one of the women from upstairs comes down to get some bread.

Clark sees a tall, blonde man staring at one of the coal-fired ovens. He's wearing dark black form-fitting jeans streaked with flour and a long, white apron over the white tank top that emphasizes his broad muscular shoulders. The man turns around as he closes the oven door.

Clark feels like he's been hit with a 1.21 gigawat bolt of lightning and staggers backwards slightly when he lays eyes on the most attractive man he's ever seen in his life. His jeans start feeling a little tight in his groin area while his eyes lower to the man's full and provocative lips. When he notices the size of the man's hands, his jeans feel even tighter. He gives himself a mental shake and starts chanting something in his head over and over. _Damn it, Clark. Get a grip. _

Oliver stares back at Clark in the same way, his eyes sweeping over Clark's body starting with the salt and pepper hair peeking out from beneath the knit hat to the unmistakable sign of a bulge in the front of Clark's jeans. _He's definitely gay all right, _unconsciously licking his lips. _I wonder what he looks like under those ratty old jeans and flannel shirt. And what's with those glasses anyway? _

"So…uh…you're the one that Lois is marrying?" Oliver abruptly averts his eyes as he wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his white gloved hand. _Why in the hell is he marrying her if he's gay? _

"Yeah," Clark quickly answers while inwardly taming down his own naughty thoughts.

"_Why_ are you here again?"

"Because Lois really wants you to be at the wedding," Clark replies as Oliver walks towards him.

He stops a few feet away and folds his arms across his chest. "I told you over the phone that there was no way in hell that I would attend the wedding."

"I don't understand. Why not?" Clark asks with a raised brow.

Oliver looks at him curiously. "She never _told_ you?"

"Tell me what?" Clark looks up at him with confusion etched on his face. "All I know is that the two of you dated for a while years ago. I never knew what broke the two of you up."

"This has _nothing_ to do with what broke us up," Oliver snaps back. "It has to do with this," pulling off one of the gloves and holding his left hand up.

Clark takes a couple steps forward and takes a closer look. "Is that-?"

"A prosthetic," Oliver replies.

"It looks so…so…"

"The word you're looking for is _real_," Oliver interrupts him. "You'd be surprised by the kind of access I have to the latest in cutting edge technology."

"How did it happen?" Clark asks as Oliver puts the glove back on.

Oliver doesn't answer him at first. There's an uncomfortable silence until he finally speaks up. "Five years ago, I was engaged to be married. I happened to be here when Lois came in and she ordered some bread from me. As I was putting the bread in the slicer, she asked me something and I turned my head. My hand got caught because I wasn't paying attention. The _slicer_ chewed off my hand."

He pauses a moment and fixes his eyes on Clark. "When my fiancé saw that I was maimed, he left me for another man."

Clark stares back at Oliver in astonishment. "_That's_ the extenuating circumstance?"

"I call it 'bad blood,' but if she wants to call it that..." his voice trails off.

"But that's not Lois' fault," Clark says.

"I don't care!" Oliver yells and sweeps a can of flour off the table. "I'm not a f*cking monument to justice! I lost my hand! I lost my groom! Lois has her hand! Lois has her groom! You come in here and you want me to put my heartbreak away and forget?"

_Did he say __groom__?_ _Is that why they broke up in the first place?_ He looks again at Oliver, his eyes misting up when he sees the pained expression on Oliver's face.

"Is it just a matter of time until a man opens his eyes and gives up his one dream of happiness? Maybe," a sad sigh coming out of him as he turns and slowly walks away.

Chrissy and the other woman watches as Clark goes after Oliver. "This is the most tormented man I have ever known," shaking his head. "I'm in love with this man, but he doesn't know that. I never told him 'cause he can never love anybody since he lost his hand and his guy," wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. The woman next to him briefly touches his shoulder just before he turns around and heads back up the stairs.

Clark catches up with Oliver in the flour room. "Can we just…talk?"

Oliver turns around as he puts on his winter coat. "There's an apartment upstairs," he says as he pushes the outside door open. They stare at each other for a moment before Clark silently walks through the opened doorway. Oliver closes the door behind him and they head up the stairs…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	4. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**At the same time…**

Jonathan enters the Peacock Café and scans the room, his eyes settling on a woman wearing a modestly cut yet elegant beige sweater. He walks over to her. "Hi, Mona," he leans over to softly kiss her cheek. "You look lovely, as usual," he smiles as he sits down.

"Thanks, Jonathan," she smiles back.

"So have you been waiting long?" he asks as he peruses the menu.

"Not long. About ten minutes," she replies as she sips her espresso.

"Sorry I'm late, but you know how mid-day traffic can be – especially during the Christmas season," he says as he lays the menu down on the table.

"Yes I do," she says as the waiter comes over to the table. He leaves after he takes Jonathan's order.

"So how are you doing?" he asks.

"I've been better," she sighs. "I still can't get used to being alone again after all these years."

"I can't even imagine what you must be going through," a solemn expression on his face.

"It's not easy," she admits. "This will be the first Christmas that I'll be alone," dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

"You were together thirty years and married for the last ten. It doesn't surprise me that you would be feeling emotional, especially at this time of year," he remarks as the waiter brings over his espresso.

"Friday would have been our tenth wedding anniversary as a matter of fact," dabbing her eyes again. "I can't believe you remembered," smiling through her tears.

"I remember a lot of things," smiling back at her. "That reminds me," reaching into his jacket pocket. "I got you a little something for Christmas," handing her a small velvet box. "I hope you like it."

"I didn't get you anything," looking up at him.

"You didn't have to," he replies with a smile. "You're friendship is enough. Now go on. Open it."

She chuckles lightly as she tears off the wrapping paper and opens the box. She gasps softly as she lifts up the gold bracelet studded with birds and stars. "It's beautiful. Thank you," leaning forward to give him another kiss on the cheek.

"I remembered that you have a thing for birds and that Janet loved to look at the stars," he replies.

She bits down on her lower lip, her eyes blinking back the tears as she slips the bracelet on her left wrist. "I'll _never_ take this off," gazing at the birds and stars.

"I'm so relieved that you like it."

"Why?" looking at him curiously.

"Well…" hesitating for a moment. "I almost didn't give it to you because I wondered if it would be a painful reminder," he admits.

"It's not," touching his hand. "It's a _lovely_ reminder of the woman who was and always will be the love of my life."

Jonathan smiles back. "So do you have any plans for Friday night or will you be staying in?" he asks as he begins to sip his coffee.

"Janet and I were supposed to see _La Boheme_ at the Metropolis Opera House Friday night. We got the tickets just before she passed away…" her voice trailing off.

Jonathan sets his cup down on the tiny matching saucer and looks up. "If you want, I could go with you." She looks up at him with an arch of her brows. "I would hate to see the tickets go to waste," he says nonchalantly as he resumes drinking his coffee. "So what do you say? Do we have a date?"

She nods her head. "We do," she answers back with a smile. "Now that that's settled, let me ask _you_ something."

"Go ahead," he replies as he finishes up his coffee.

"So what's been going on with you since I saw you last week?"

"Me?" looking at her curiously.

"_Yes_, you," rolling her eyes slightly.

"Well…" pausing a moment. "Clark announced last night that he was getting married again."

"That's wonderful news," getting up from her chair to give him a hug, then sitting back down. "Who is he marrying anyway? Is it the good-looking guy in the sports department?"

"No," Jonathan shakes his head sadly. "It's his writing partner."

Her mouth forms an 'o' and she stares at him with surprise. "He's marrying a _woman?"_

"Yep," he nods as he starts eating his pastry.

"I don't understand," a puzzled look on her face. "Why would he marry another woman?"

"He said that he doesn't believe there is a 'Mr. Right' for him and that he wants to have another kid before he's too old to enjoy him or her," Jonathan says between bites. "I made it quite clear that I don't think it's a good idea, but his mind is made up so there's no changing it."

"He's a stubborn man, Jonathan. He takes after you."

He lays his fork down on his plate. "_I'm_ stubborn?" his eyes narrowing.

"Absolutely," she says emphatically.

"Since when?"

"For as long as I've known you," she quips.

He leans back in his chair. "We've known each other since high school. That's almost fifty years ago."

She can't help chuckling. "I don't know why this should come as a surprise to you. I'm sure that your wife has mentioned it from time to time," flashing him a wink.

He picks up his fork and stabs his fork into his pastry and shoves a piece into his mouth.

"Seems like I hit a nerve," arching one of her brows. "Jonathan?" she asks when he doesn't respond. He just continues eating his pastry, dropping the fork on the plate with a clatter when he's finished. "_Fine_. Be like that," she snorts as she rises from her chair.

He looks up. "You're going?"

"I have some shopping to do, then I have an appointment with the hairdresser," she replies as she picks up her coat. "I'll meet you there Friday night around seven," leaning over to give him another hug.

"Okay," he replies as he rises to his feet. "As usual I enjoyed our weekly get-together," he says with a smile as he helps her with her coat before they walk towards the front door. "So where are you parked?" he asks as they exit the café.

"I took a cab," she replies as she puts on her gloves.

"Nonsense," he declares. "I'll give you a ride home."

"I couldn't possibly-"

"I insist," he answers back. "Come on," taking her arm and leading her towards his car…

**The bakery apartment**

Clark follows Oliver out of the basement. They continue to walk in silence as they climb the stairs of the three-story walk-up above the bakery. "This is it," Oliver says, holding the door open.

"It's nice," Clark remarks as he steps inside the two-bedroom apartment. He notices a desk with a laptop in a corner of the living room, an overstuffed couch on the opposite side of the room with a coffee table in front of it. "Do you use this as an office?" turning to Oliver.

"No," Oliver replies. "I use it when I want to be alone," he mutters softly as he stares at one of several _La_ _Boheme_ posters he has hanging on the walls of the apartment.

"I can understand that," Clark remarks as he walks around the room. "When I was a kid, we lived on a farm in Smallville. I always went up to the loft in the barn when I needed my privacy. My Dad liked to call it my _Fortress of Solitude_," smiling at the memory. "My parents still go back there at least one weekend a month."

"So you still own the farm?"

Clark looks up. "Yes," he replies. "What about your parents?"

Oliver abruptly turns away and walks over to a side table with an old-fashioned record player on top of it. "My parents died in a plane crash when I was eight," he answers back as he places a record on the turntable and lifts the arm. There's a crackling sound as the needle touches the spinning record before the opening strains of _La Boheme_ begin to play.

"What _is_ that?" Clark asks as he takes off his coat and scarf, stuffing the gloves and hat into one of the pockets and hanging it on the coat rack.

"_La Boheme_," Oliver replies without looking up. "It was my mother's favorite opera," he replies in a melancholy tone.

"It's beautiful," Clark says as he looks up at Oliver. When he doesn't answer Clark asks, "So do you have anything to drink around here?"

"There's some coffee in the cabinet," Oliver replies. "I'll make some."

"I can make it," Clark declares, walking out of the living room and into the kitchen. Once he finds it and prepares the coffee, he makes his way over to the refrigerator. "I bet you haven't had anything to eat all day," he remarks as he pulls out a package from the freezer and reads the label.

"I'm not really hungry," Oliver says.

"You have to eat _something_," Clark insists as he puts the package in the microwave and sets it on 'defrost' while setting a pan of water on the stovetop for the pasta. "I'm gonna make you a steak."

"I don't want it," Oliver insists.

"You'll eat it," Clark returns with a smile as he removes the package and begins to season the steak with salt and pepper, then sprinkles some Italian seasoning.

"I like it well done," Oliver calls out.

"You'll eat this one bloody to feed your blood," Clark replies as he sets the steak aside and goes about setting the table. Once the water for the pasta comes to a boil, he heats up the grill pan before adding the steak.

"That smells good," Oliver says as he walks into the kitchen and comes up behind Clark, looking over his shoulder as he turns the steak over. "Where'd you learn to cook?"

"I learned from my mother," Clark replies in a slightly nervous tone, feeling a little flustered at the nearness of Oliver. "It's just about ready," turning off the heat and flipping it onto a plate, then adding some spaghetti. "I'll put it on the…" stopping in mid sentence as their eyes meet. "…table," he swallows thickly before tearing his eyes away and setting the plate down.

Oliver picks up his knife and fork and starts cutting into the steak while Clark sits across from him drinking his coffee. "This is good…uh…"

"Clark," he replies. "Clark Kent."

"Clark Kent. Hmm," a thoughtful look on his face. "You're not by any chance related to our former Governor _Jonathan Kent_ are you?"

"He's my father," Clark replies.

"Hmm," Oliver mutters again. "So how did you meet Lois?" changing the subject as he twirls some spaghetti around his fork and popping it into his mouth.

"We met at the Daily Planet when I got a job there as a reporter," Clark says as he adds some more milk to his coffee.

"That certainly explains why your name seemed so familiar to me – and not just because of your father. I've read many of your stories. You're a very good writer," Oliver says with a small smile.

"Thank you," Clark replies.

The only sound to be heard for the next couple minutes is the sound of the knife scraping the plate as Oliver cuts into the last of the steak. "So is this your first marriage?"

Clark is taken aback at the suddenness of Oliver's question. "No, actually," he answers after a long pause. "I was married for two years but then my wife died."

"How'd she die?" Oliver asks.

"A bus hit her."

"Fast?"

"Instantaneous," Clark replies quickly.

Oliver exhales softly before asking his next question. "When did you get engaged?"

"Yesterday."

"So…five years ago you got your hand cut off and your man left you. No men since then?" Clark asks him.

"No."

"Stupid," Clark shakes his head with a sigh.

"When did your wife get hit by a bus?"

"About…uh…seven years ago," Clark replies as he starts eating some of the spaghetti.

"How many women since then?"

"Just Lois."

"Okay, so how many men?"

Clark nearly chokes on his food but he manages to swallow it down_. "Men?"_ staring at Oliver with a shocked expression. "What makes you think I'm interested in men?" his voice cracking slightly.

Oliver snorts with laughter. "I knew you were gay the second I laid eyes on you. I'm not an idiot you know."

Clark's eyes narrow for a moment before leaning back against his chair with a sigh. "There was one man," he admits at last.

"Stupid yourself," Oliver remarks. "Was it serious?" he asks as he picks up his water glass.

"No," Clark shakes his head sadly. "It was a one night stand."

"Really," his interest peaked. "You don't seem like the type of guy who would do such a thing."

"It happened while I was still married and denying my true feelings. I finally realized that I couldn't deny it to myself anymore."

"So what happened?" Oliver asks him.

"I couldn't live with the guilt about breaking my marriage vows anymore so I confessed what I did and she freaked out. She ran out of the house and into the street crying and didn't see the bus until it was too late."

"Wow," Oliver stares back at Clark with astonishment. "So you haven't been with another man since?"

"No," Clark admits. "I've gone on dates, but there was always something missing," shrugging his shoulders as he finishes off his spaghetti. "I guess my father was right all along. It was bad luck."

"I don't care about luck. You understand me? It ain't that."

Clark drops his fork. "What's the matter with you? You think you're the only one who shed a tear?"

"Between the two of us, yes I'm the only one. You may have been married, but I bet you weren't truly in love with your wife, _were_ you?" When Clark doesn't reply, he goes on. "Why are you here talking to me anyway?"

Clark looks up at him, pausing a moment before he finally says something. "You have any whiskey? How about you get me a glass of whiskey?" picking up his napkin and wiping his mouth with it.

**At the same time…**

"Thanks for the lift, Jonathan," Mona says as she gets out of the car.

"No need to thank me," he replies with a smile as she closes the door and comes around to his side of the car.

"Now don't forget about our 'date' Friday night," she smiles as she leans forward to press her lips against his cheek.

"Seven at the Met," flashing a wink at her as she walks away. He waits until she's inside her apartment building before he pulls away from the curb.

**Back at the apartment…**

"He was right to leave me," Oliver says in a wistful tone as he pours some more whiskey into a glass.

"You think so?" taking the bottle from him and setting it down on the table.

"Yeah."

"You really _are_ stupid you know that?"

"Uh…you don't know anything about it," Oliver retorts.

"Maybe not, but you tell me the story, and you act like you know what it means…but I can see what the true story is and you can't. That man didn't leave you, okay? You can't see what you are, and I see everything. You're a wolf."

"I'm a wolf?" looking at him curiously.

"Yeah. The big part of you that has no words and…uh…it's a wolf. That man was a trap for you. He caught you, and you couldn't get away…so you chewed off your own foot," gesturing with his hand.

He just scoffs and turns his head away as Clark continues to talk.

"That was the price you had to pay for your freedom. Lois had nothing to do with it. You did what you had to do between you and you. And _now_ you're afraid because you know the big part of you is a wolf that has the courage to bite off its own hand to save itself from the trap of the wrong love. That's why there's been no man since that 'wrong man.' _Okay? _You're scared to death of what the wolf will do if you make that mistake again."

"What are you doing?" Oliver turns his head back around and glares at Clark.

"I'm telling you your life," Clark replies as he takes a sip of whiskey.

"Stop it!"

"No," Clark retorts.

"Why are you marrying Lois?"

"Because this is my last chance to have kids, that's why."

Oliver abruptly gets up and pushes his chair back. "She made me look the wrong way, and I cut off my hand! She could make you look the wrong way. You could lose your whole head!"

"I'm looking where I have to in order to become a father!"

"A father without a head!"

"A wolf without a foot!"

Oliver finally has had enough and he pushes the table away with such force that it flips over, the dishes and glass shattering upon impact with the linoleum covered floor.

Clark looks up in shock as Oliver stands there staring down at him, briefly running his fingers through his hair in exasperation before he takes a couple steps and grabs Clark by the arms, pulling him to his feet and crashing his lips against his.

Clark's eyes close as Oliver continues to kiss him with an intensity he hadn't felt in years. He pulls away to catch his breath. "Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" he exclaims before throwing his arms around Oliver's neck and kissing him back.

Oliver's arms come around Clark's waist to pull him flush against his chest. Clark moans softly as their groins press up against each other as they completely lose themselves in the moment of passion. Suddenly Oliver lowers one of his arms and hooks it around Clark's knees.

"What do you think you're doing?" Clark staring up at him in disbelief as Oliver lifts him up into his arms. "Guys don't sweep another guy off their feet and-"

"Son of a b!tch!" Oliver interrupts him as he carries Clark out of the kitchen.

"Where are you taking me?"

Oliver fixes his eyes on Clarks. "To the bed."

Clark's head drops backwards as they enter the bedroom. "Oh, no. Okay, I don't care. I don't care. Take me, _take_ me to the bed. I don't care about anything," his head resting on Oliver's shoulder.

"I can't believe this is happening," Oliver replies softly as he sets Clark down on the bed and lies on top of him. "I was dead," he mutters.

"Me too," Clark whispers softly as Oliver peppers his throat with kisses while ripping open his flannel shirt and tossing it aside, the sound of buttons scattering across the floor.

"That was one of my best flannel shirts," Clark retorts as he retaliates by tearing off Oliver's tank top.

"I'll buy you a new shirt. Preferably silk," Oliver growls while gliding his palms over Clark's hardened nipples, eliciting a deep groan from within him.

Their hands move all over each other's bodies as the rest of their clothes rapidly hit the floor. Oliver lightly rubs several of his fingers over the head of Clark's length to lubricate them before they slip between Clark's cheeks.

Clark's eyes flutter shut and he groans with pleasure as Oliver's fingers push forward. "You're so tight," Oliver mutters as he scissors his fingers inside Clark. "How long did you say it's been since that one time?"

"Seven years," Clark gasps out as their lower bodies rub against each other at the same time.

Oliver looks down at him. "I don't want to hurt you. You'd tell me if I was wouldn't you?" sounding a little worried.

Clark opens his eyes and looks up. "Of course I would," smiling up at him in a reassuring way.

Oliver smiles back while his other hand lightly caresses Clark's cheek.

"There's something I need to ask you."

"What?" Oliver asks in a curious tone.

He opens his eyes and looks up. "I was…uh…wondering if you…uh…had some…uh…protection?"

Oliver smiles in response and removes his fingers before reaching over to pull out a foil packet from the nightstand drawer. "Is this what you had in mind?" he asks as he sits up and tears it open.

"Yes," Clark gasps out breathlessly.

Oliver rolls the condom on and lies back down on Clark. "What about Lois?" he asks as he grabs Clark's legs and lifts them up.

Clark immediately locks his ankles behind Oliver's upper back. "You're mad at her. Take it out on me. Take all your revenge out on me. Leave nothing for her to marry except the skin over my bones," Clark gasps out, his eyes closing again as his fingernails dig deep into Oliver's shoulders.

"Alright. There will be _nothing_ left," Oliver murmurs against his lips as he slowly sinks all the way into Clark's body, the painful gasps coming out of Clark because of the initial burn of Oliver's length stretching him turning into moans of ecstasy that fill the air as their bodies rock together…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

**The Kent residence…**

Jonathan hung up his coat and was about to head up to the upstairs bedroom when Martha comes out of the dining room. "Well it's about time you came home," her hands on her hips. "Did you remember to pick up the parmesan cheese?"

"Oh," a sheepish look on his face.

"I asked you to do _one_ little thing for me and you couldn't even do that," she complains.

"So I forgot the parmesan cheese. It's not a big deal."

"It _is_ a big deal when I'm serving eggplant parmagina with spaghetti tonight," she snaps back.

"_Fine_," rolling his eyes and putting his coat back on. "I'll go back to the damn store and get some," fishing out his keys.

"Hurry up because Jimmy and Chloe will be here in less than thirty minutes," turning on her heel and walking away.

He grumbles under his breath as he steps outside and slams the door behind him. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head as she returns to the kitchen to check on the spaghetti sauce.

**Thirty minutes later…**

"Jimmy, Chloe," Martha greeting them by giving each of them a hug as they step into the hallway. "I'm _so_ happy you were able to make it tonight."

"Thank you for inviting us," Jimmy replies as he takes off his coat and hangs it up on the coat rack along with his wife's.

"You're both family," Martha says with a smile. "So how are you feeling, Chloe?" lightly patting her extended belly.

"Fat," she says with a sigh.

"You're not fat. You're pregnant," Jimmy says softly while kissing her cheek.

"He's right," Martha replies and wraps her arm around Chloe's shoulders. "When you see your baby for the very first time, you'll forget about the swollen ankles, the overactive bladder, _everything_. That's what happened to me when I gave birth to both Clark _and_ Kara."

"I know all that. I _have_ given birth before after all, but that does make me feel better. Thank you," smiling over at Martha.

"Good," Martha says with a smile. "So has the doctor said when you might have the baby?" she asks as they head for the dining room.

"I saw Dr. Hamilton today as a matter of fact," Chloe replies as they enter the dining room while the sound of instrumental Christmas music creates a festive atmosphere. "At first he thought that I might have a Christmas baby, but now it's looking more and more like New Year's," sitting down next to Jimmy while Martha goes to the kitchen to retrieve a large platter of spaghetti and eggplant parmagina.

"That would be wonderful," Martha says as she comes back into the dining room and sets the platter down next to the salad bowl and garlic bread. "I have a feeling that you'll have it before then," she adds as Jonathan sits down at the head of the table and pours himself some wine.

"Is that your intuition telling you that?" Jimmy asks with a smile as he picks up the tongs for the salad.

"It's just a feeling," she replies with a wink as she picks up a piece of garlic bread.

"This all looks good, Mrs. K," Jimmy says with a smile. "So you mentioned Kara earlier. How is she?" he asks as he places some salad on his plate. "Are they still living in California?"

"She and the family are both fine," Martha replies with a smile as she sits down at the opposite end of the table from Jonathan. "They're still in California, but hopefully they'll be moving back to Metropolis in about six months."

"That's great news," Chloe smiles back. "Will they be back in time for Christmas?"

"They won't be able to make it this year," she says in a sad tone as she nibbles on her bread. "Which means that we'll be having our Christmas dinner here instead of at the farm."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Chloe replies in a disappointed tone as she sprinkles some parmesan cheese on her spaghetti before picking up her fork. "So where's Clark anyway? Isn't he supposed to be here?" she changes the subject while twirling it around her fork.

"He must be eating out," Martha remarks.

"He sure doesn't know what he's missing," Jimmy says as he drizzles some Italian dressing over his salad and picks up his fork.

"It's not like him not to call," Martha replies in a worried tone.

"Did you check your cell phone?" Jonathan asks as he fills up his wine glass again. "Maybe he sent a text message," raising his glass to his lips.

Martha pulls out her cell phone and looks at the display screen. "He says he won't be home for dinner," returning the phone to her pocket. "You were right," looking up at her husband. "I had my phone on 'vibrate.' That's why I didn't hear it," she says as she starts eating her salad.

Jimmy, Chloe, and Martha continue with the chit chat while Jonathan stays out of the conversation.

"So what's the big news?" Chloe asks as she sips her water.

Martha laid down her fork. "Clark was supposed to be here to tell you, but since he's not I might as well do it."

Both Jimmy and Chloe eagerly lean forward in their chairs.

"Clark is getting married again."

"What?" they both exclaim at the same time.

"Is it that sportswriter at the Planet?" Jimmy asks. "I know that Clark's been out with him before."

"No, it's not," Martha replies. "He's marrying Lois."

"Lois? _My_ cousin Lois?" Chloe stares back at her with widening eyes. "When did _that_ happen?"

"Last night," Martha replies as she dips her fork into the spaghetti.

"I don't believe it. I just don't believe it," Chloe shakes her head in disbelief.

"I don't think anybody saw _that_ one coming," Jimmy remarks as he bites into another slice of garlic bread.

"Can we _please_ talk about something else?" Jonathan pipes up as he reaches for the carafe of wine and pours some more wine.

"Sure," Martha looks up. "How about we talk about where _you've_ been all day?" quirking a brow at him. "Where do you go _every_ Wednesday?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he scowls as he drinks his wine.

Martha rolls her eyes in exasperation.

"So did you see that full moon tonight?" Jimmy asks, changing the subject as they all continue eating. "I haven't seen a full moon like that in years."

"I remember the last time I saw one like that," Martha says with a wistful smile on her face. "It was while Jonathan and I were engaged. I had to break one of our dates because I had the flu. I woke up in the middle of the night because of this bright light shining in my eyes. I couldn't figure out what it was at first, so I walked over to the window and looked outside. It was the moon, as big as a house. I looked down and standing there in the street was Jonathan. He was looking up at my window."

Jonathan stares at her as she continues telling the story.

"I thought that he was _so_ in love with me that he brought that moon over and woke me up with it," smiling back at her husband. "I was half asleep I guess. I didn't know any better," she says with a chuckle.

"You were dreaming all right," Jonathan scowls as he finishes up the last of his spaghetti.

"No," shaking her head. "You were there."

"I don't want to talk about it!"

"What _do_ you want to talk about?" she asks as he pours some more wine into his glass. "Why are you drinking so much?"

He doesn't answer, instead picking up his glass and abruptly exiting the room.

The three of them look at each other and shake their heads.

**Middle of the night…**

Martha changes into her nightgown and walks into the bedroom. She walks over to the bed and gazes down at Jonathan's sleeping form.

"You drank too much. You'll sleep too hard, and later you'll be up when you should be down," she says in a soft voice while lightly running her fingers through his hair.

She kisses his cheek before shutting off the bedside lamp. Immediately moonlight illuminates the room. She walks over to the window and parts the blue lace curtains to stare up at the full moon, a pensive expression on her face…

Jimmy opens his eyes and looks up. "Chloe," his arm reaching behind him to nudge her shoulder. "Chloe, dear, wake up."

"What?" she murmurs sleepily.

"Look," pointing to the window.

"Oh," closing her eyes again.

"It's Mr. K's moon," he says as he gets out of bed.

"What are you talking about? Mr. K can't own the moon," rolling over on her side and burying her face in the pillow.

"It's that moon Mrs. K was talking about at dinner," he says as he walks over to the window. "Is he down there?" he wonders while looking down toward the street.

"Is _who_ down there?" Chloe lifts her head from the pillow and looks in his direction.

"Mr. K," he replies.

"What would he be doing down there?" she asks as she props herself up on one arm.

"I don't know," he answers with a shrug of his shoulders and turns to look back at her.

She smiles at him. "You know something? In that light…with that expression on your face, you look exactly the way you looked when we met twenty years ago."

He looks at her curiously for a moment, then smiles and makes his way over to the bed.

"What?" she can't help giggling as he climbs back into bed. "What do you want?" still giggling as he pulls off the blanket covering her. "Get out," rolling over in the opposite direction and trying to slap him away but it doesn't deter him as he peppers the back of her neck with kisses...

Oliver's sleeping while Clark lies next to him wide awake. He gets up and grabs a red blanket to wrap around his shoulders and walks over to the window to gaze up at the moon through the opened blinds.

Oliver wakes up when he feels the bed dip. "What's the matter?" he asks as he gets out of bed.

"Nothing. I'm looking at the moon," Clark replies without turning around.

Oliver comes up behind him and wraps his arms around him. "It's perfect," he says in a low voice.

"I've never seen a moon like that before," Clark replies while resting his head against Oliver's chest.

"It make you look like an angel," softly kissing the side of Clark's neck. "I know this will sound funny, but to me it looks like a giant snowball."

Clark chuckles lightly. "It doesn't sound funny to me at all," craning his head and smiling up at him.

Oliver smiles back before lowering his lips. As they continue kissing, Oliver's hands reach up to untie the blanket around Clark's shoulders, allowing it to drop down to the floor. "Oliver?" he whispers between kisses.

Oliver pulls back and arches a brow. "Yes, Clark?"

"You said that you hadn't been with another man for five years, ever since your fiancé left you."

"That's right," looking curiously at Clark. "So?"

"If that's the truth, then why would you have a ready supply of condoms in the bedside drawer?" fixing his eyes on Oliver. "Can you explain that?"

Oliver looks at him for a long moment before he gives Clark an answer. "I _can_ explain that," he says at last. "I have friends that stay here from time to time when they've had too much to drink and need a place to crash or when they want to hook up with someone."

Clark thinks about what Oliver just told him. "That makes sense," he says at last.

"I'm glad you feel that way because I didn't want you thinking that I'm the kind of guy that still acts like a college guy who has nothing but one night stands. I'm ashamed to say that I had a number of them when I was younger, but that was before I met my fiancé. I haven't had one since then," his hands resting on Clark's waist. "I admit that I was a little worried about what you might think of me," one hand moving up to stroke Clark's hair.

"I _was_ a little worried at first, but I feel better after hearing your explanation," Clark replies.

"I'm glad you understand," Oliver smiles softly. "So can I ask _you_ something?"

"Sure," Clark turns around to face him.

"You said that you had a one-night stand and that's when you knew for sure that you were gay."

"That's right. What about it?" Clark asks in a curious tone.

"I was just wondering how it came about. If you don't want to talk about it, I'll understand."

"No, it's okay," Clark turns around again to face the window, his head resting back against Oliver's chest. "It was a month before my wife died. She brought up the subject of our trying to have a baby, but I told her I wasn't ready. At least that's what I told her. The real reason was somewhat different."

"Which was…?"

Clark takes a deep breath and exhales before answering. "I just wasn't interested in sex anymore."

"Sex in general or sex with her?"

"Sex with her, but I couldn't tell her that," he sighs. "I was still confused about my sexual feelings at the time. Anyway, we had a _huge_ argument and I stormed out. I went to the Ace of Clubs to have a drink when this one guy sat down next to me at the bar. We started talking, then before I knew it we were in the last stall of the men's bathroom kissing, then he spun me around and pushed me up against the wall. My pants came down and…well…you can guess what happened next," his voice sounding wistful.

Oliver continues to listen with a sympathetic ear while Clark continues to talk. "It may have been one of those 'wham bam thank you man' numbers, but yet it felt so right at the same time. I felt more in that brief encounter than I ever did with my wife."

"Well I hope that he at least had the presence of mind to use protection," Oliver replies as his fingers lightly caress Clark's stomach before returning to gently squeeze his waist.

"He did," Clark replies while Oliver presses a soft kiss against the side of his neck. "I craned my head when I heard him tearing something open. It was a condom packet."

"Well I'm really sorry that your first real sexual experience with a man wasn't more…romantic."

"Me too," Clark replies. "I wanted to do it to him but he wouldn't let me," letting out a sigh. "I suppose you've done both," Clark turning around again.

"Both?"

"Top and bottom," Clark replies.

Oliver remains silent for a moment before he speaks up. "_Not_ exactly."

Clark arches his brows. "What do you mean?"

"It means that I've never been on the bottom. I've always been the one on top."

"Really?" a look of surprise on Clark's face. "What about your fiancé? Didn't he mind?"

"He liked being the bottom and I liked being the top so it worked out fine."

"What about the one night stands you had before him?" Clark asks next. "Didn't you ever let them-?"

"No," Oliver interrupts while shaking his head. "I always had to have all the control."

"Oh," Clark turns around again. "Well, you're missing out on something wonderful. You should try it."

"I will…with the right person," Oliver says wistfully as they stare up at the moon.

"So do you want to go back to bed and get some sleep?" Clark asks after a few moments.

Oliver's eyes begin to twinkle. "I have an even _better_ idea," kissing Clark once more before pulling away and walking over to the bedside table.

Clark turns around, his hands on the window sill behind him. He watches with interest as Oliver opens the drawer. "Stay _right_ where you are," he tells him as he pulls out a foil packet.

Clark's eyes widen slightly. "Right here? In front of the window where somebody might see us?"

"That's right," Oliver replies as he walks back to Clark. "Now turn around and lean forward."

_He's __sooo__ sexy when he talks like that, _Clark can't help but think as he turns around and leans forward, his hands resting on the window sill as Oliver tears open the foil packet and quickly rolls on the condom. He stands behind Clark, his fingers spreading his cheeks apart as he glides his length down the clef of Clark's ass and slips between them.

"_Oh_, yes," Clark gasps out as Oliver lightly brushes up against his entrance.

Oliver's hands move down to cup and firmly squeeze his cheeks. "Don't you think there's something _titillating _about the possibility of somebody out there watching us make love?" he whispers softly as they stare at their reflections in the window pane.

His words send a pleasurable shiver up and down Clark's spine. "Are you ready for more?" Oliver asks as his lips move downward.

"Mmm," a soft moan coming out of Clark's mouth as Oliver presses forward, filling him, stretching him inch by delicious inch until he's buried inside Clark's body as deep as he could possibly go.

"You feel _sooo…sooo… _good," Clark whispers, his eyes fluttering shut as his head drops down.

"No. _You're _the one who feels so good," Oliver whispers as his fingers move from Clark's cheeks to firmly grip his waist. "You are _so_ perfectly stretched now. I love it," he says in a husky tone as he begins to move in and out of Clark at a leisurely pace. Clark lifts his head and turns his neck just in time for Oliver to give him a hard kiss.

Clark's fingers grip the edge of the windowsill as Oliver quickens the pace at the same time that one of his hands leaves Clark's waist and begins to stroke Clark's length in time with his thrusts. It doesn't take long before Clark throws his head backwards and he arches his back, the moonlight shining on their faces as they reach their peaks together…

**Five minutes earlier…**

"Are you still fiddling around with that thing?" he says in exasperation as he turns down the bed.

"That _thing_ is a telescope," she retorts back as she adjusts the lens again. "I need to figure out why I had problems with it at our final class tonight. I was lucky that Professor Fine had one I could use."

He walks over to the window and stands behind her. "If you're supposed to be looking at the stars, then explain to me why it's not pointing skyward."

"I'm making some adjustments first," she replies without looking back. "I think I almost have it."

"Come on, let's go to bed," wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I've got it!" she declares in triumph as she lowers her head. "Oh, _my_," her mouth forming an 'o' as she stares through the eyepiece while he's kissing the back of her neck. "That is _sooo_ hot."

"What's _sooo_ hot?" he murmurs as his lips move up to behind her ear.

"See for yourself," craning her neck to look up at him.

"If I do, will you come to bed?" he asks.

"Not only will I come to bed, but I'll let you do that thing to me that you've _always_ wanted to do," she counters back.

"You mean…" his eyebrows rising.

"You better get out the lube, sweetie," she replies in a teasing tone.

He grins at her as they switch places. "Son of a b!tch!" he exclaims while looking through the eyepiece.

"So tell me. What does it look like to you?" she asks him.

"It looks like a blonde guy f*cking a black-haired guy wearing glasses in front of a window. That's pretty bold of them I must say."

"Maybe so, but that's not what it looks like to me."

He looks at her curiously. "What _does_ it look like to you?"

"To me, it looks like they're making love," she answers back. "Can't you see the looks on their faces? The expressions in their eyes? There's _so_ much more going on there than just _f*cking_."

He lifts his head and sees the expression in her own eyes. "You're right," he replies as he wraps his arms around her again and pulls her flush against his chest. "How about _we_ make love?"

"_Oh_, yeah," smiling up at him as he lifts her up into his arms and carries her to the bed…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

**The next morning…**

Clark felt the morning sun on his face as he woke up. He blinked his eyes a few times so they could adjust to the light, then looks over and sees a naked Oliver lying on his stomach next to him.

"Oh _sh!t!"_ his eyes widening as the memories of what happened between them the night before come flooding back to him.

"Huh?" Oliver murmurs sleepily as he opens his eyes and looks up.

"_Huh?" _ Clark repeats as he grabs the blanket and throws it over his shoulders before bolting out of bed and grabbing his glasses from the side table.

"Take it easy," Oliver says with a confident grin as he turns on his back.

"Take it _easy?"_ whipping around and glaring back at Oliver. "I was barely engaged for one day before…before…" he stammers.

"You're getting a little agitated," Oliver replies as he sits up in bed. "Why don't you just sit down and take a deep breath," he says in a soothing tone.

"I _don't_ think so," Clark snaps. "Sleeping with the ex-boyfriend of my fiancé was _not_ part of the plan," he says as he picks up his clothes from the floor. "Bad luck. That's what this is," shaking his head as he opens the door to the closet and steps inside.

"You're making me feel guilty," Oliver says while grabbing his dark green silk bathrobe.

"You _are_ guilty. _I'm_ guilty," Clark snaps back as he closes the door behind him. "I'm _marrying_ your ex-girlfriend," Clark calls out from inside the closet. "She's going to be the mother of my children."

"All right, I'm guilty. I confess," Oliver admits as he pulls on the bathrobe and ties the belt around his waist.

"We're getting married on Valentine's Day and you're invited. Okay?" Clark yells out from the closet where he was getting dressed.

Oliver walks over to the closet and opens the door. "What did you do?"

Clark stares up at him while half-dressed. "What did _I_ do?" slamming the door closed.

Oliver opens the door again. "You ruined my life."

"That's impossible!" Clark retorts as he slams the door shut again. "It was ruined when I got here. _You_ ruined _my_ life," he replies as he finishes getting dressed.

"No, I didn't," Oliver sighs as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Oh, yes you did. Yes, you did!" Clark declares as he comes out of the closet. "You got those _bad_ eyes like a gypsy and I don't know why I didn't see it yesterday. Bad luck. That's it," he says again. "Is that all I'm ever gonna have?" Clark gestures with his hands before putting on his socks.

"I should have taken a rock and killed myself years ago," sitting down next to him on the bed and pulling on his boots. "I'm marrying Lois. Do you hear me? Last night never happened. I'm marrying Lois and having kids with her and we are going to take this _to_ our coffins."

"I'm sorry but I can't do that," Oliver shakes his head as he gets up and stands in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Why not?" Clark asks as he gets up from the bed.

"Because I'm in love with you."

Clark stares at him in disbelief, then walks up to him and slaps him across the face. When Oliver doesn't respond like Clark expected him to, he slaps him again. "Snap out of it!" he exclaims and walks out of the room.

"I can't," Oliver replies and follows him out of the room.

"Then I must never see you again, and the bad blood will have to stay between you and Lois forever," Clark says as he heads for the bathroom.

Oliver come over and stands in the doorway as Clark splashes some cold water on his face. "I'm gonna be late for work," he mutters under his breath as he uses a comb to try and smooth down his tousled hair.

"I love your hair like that," Oliver smiles as he comes over and wraps his arms around Clark's waist. "It's _sooo_ sexy," he drawls in a sexy tone while nibbling on the back of Clark's neck.

Clark ignores him and pulls out of his arms. "I won't even have time to go home to take a shower, shave, or even brush my teeth. Good thing I keep a change of clothes in our office at work," he mutters as he turns around and points at Oliver. "And _you_ won't come to the wedding."

"Oh, I'll _come_ to the wedding," Oliver replies with a mischievous grin on his face. "I might even give the groom my very own _personal_ congratulations," wiggling his brows.

"I'm telling you, you can't come!" Clark retorts while ignoring Oliver's last quip.

"Lois wants me to come and I wouldn't want to disappoint her."

"That's because she doesn't know what happened between us," Clark counters as he brushes by him and exits the bathroom.

"Now _wait_ a minute," Oliver calls after him as he follows Clark down the hallway. "Listen, honey. I won't come to the wedding, provided you do _one_ thing for me."

"What?" turning around as he puts on his coat.

"You come with me Friday night…to the opera."

Clark stares at him with surprise. "What _are_ you talking about?" he asks as he puts on his glasses, then wraps his scarf around his neck.

"I love two things," Oliver says with his hands crossed over his heart. "I love you, and I love the opera. If I can have the two things that I love together for one night, I will be satisfied to give up," pausing a moment, "The rest of my life."

Clark rolls his eyes as he puts on his hat then the matching gloves. "Alright."

Oliver smiles at him as Clark unlocks the door and pulls off the door chain. "Meet me Friday night in front of the water fountain at the Met around seven," Oliver tells him.

"Fine," Clark says as he walks out and closes the door behind him. Oliver starts to put the chain back on when Clark pokes his head in again. "Where's the Met?"

Oliver looks at him with astonishment. "You don't know where the Met is? How could you not know where the Met is?"

"Gotcha," Clark smirks just before he closes the door again.

Oliver could hear Clarks laughter as he walks away, shaking his head with amusement as he puts the chain on the door, singing _Baby, it's cold outside_to himself as he goes back into the bathroom to take a shower.

Clark exits the building, then walks to the corner and waits for the light to change before crossing the street. He can't stop himself from blushing when he thinks about Oliver's hands touching his body.

_Why oh why did I have to agree to go to the opera with him? _he wonders for the hundredth time.

He finally reaches the other side and starts walking down the street. The familiar sound of his ring tone pulls him out of his reverie and he pulls it out of his pocket. It's an instant message from Oliver.

_What does he want now? _he frowns as he opens the message.

_From OQ to CK: I just remembered that I don't have plans tonight. How about dinner and a movie? My treat._

_He just doesn't give up; _Clark mutters to himself as he responds to the message.

_From CK to OQ: I don't think that's a good idea._

_From OQ to CK: Why not?_

Clark types out an answer and presses 'send.'

_From CK to OQ: You know why._

_From OQ to CK: Why don't you refresh my memory?_

_I can just picture the smirk on his face right now, _Clark thinks to himself as he once again types out a message and sends it.

_From CK to OQ: Have you forgotten I'm marrying your __ex__-girlfriend?_

_From OQ to CK: So getting married means you can't have dinner with a friend?_

Clark takes a long pause before typing another response.

_From CK to OQ: So we're friends now?_

_From OQ to CK: I won't tell anyone if you won't._

Clark can't help smiling at Oliver's response.

_From CK to OQ: __Fine__. I'll go out with you._

_From OQ to CK: Great._

_From CK to OQ: __Not__ so fast. There are conditions._

_From OQ to CK: Alright. What are they?_

_From CK to OQ: How about coffee instead of dinner and a movie?_

He waits for Oliver to respond. Finally he does.

_From OQ to CK: Alright. So is that it for the conditions?_

Clark thinks about it for a moment before he replies.

_From CK to OQ: No. There's one more. _

_From OQ to CK: What?_

_From CK to OQ: Sex is __off__ the table._

_He won't like that one, _Clark grins inwardly while waiting for an answer. He doesn't get one until a few minutes later.

_From OQ to CK: I don't like that last condition._

_From CK to OQ: Take it or leave it._

A few more minutes pass by before Oliver responds again.

_From OQ to CK: Alright. No sex, but you're taking the fun out of it. *pouts*_

Clark decides to let him stew a while before he answers back, typing out his response with a grin on his face as he sends it.

_From CK to OQ: It's a deal._

_From OQ to CK: So where do you want to meet?_

_From CK to OQ: I haven't decided yet. I'll let you know later._

_From OQ to CK: Alright. Let me know when and where._

_From CK to OQ: K._

_From OQ to CK: K?_

_From CK to OQ: That's short for __okay._

_From OQ to CK: K. See you tonight, honey buns._

_From CK to OQ: I am __not __your honey buns!_

_From OQ to CK: How about sweet cheeks? _

_From CK to OQ: I'm not your sweet cheeks either!_

_From OQ to CK: You certainly __have__ sweet cheeks. I oughta know. :D_

_From CK to OQ: Stop it!_

_From OQ to CK: Make me stop._

_From CK to OQ: You'd love that __wouldn't__ you._

Clark stares at the message he just sent. _Why did I write that?_

_From OQ to CK: Of course I would. _

_From CK to OQ: That figures. *rolls eyes*_

_From OQ to CK: Just one more thing._

_From CK to OQ: What?_

_From OQ to CK: Are you absolutely __positive__ about the 'no sex' condition?_

_From CK to OQ: Yes._

_From OQ to CK: That's a shame because I was just thinking about whether or not to go commando tonight._

Clark nearly drops his phone at Oliver's last message. He types out a response with slightly shaky fingers.

_From CK to OQ: I have to get to work before my editor starts breathing down my neck. _

_From OQ to CK: Okay. Bye honey buns._

_From CK to OQ: *rolls eyes again*_

**Daily Planet**

Clark throws a couple bucks into the Salvation Army bucket before entering the building. He locks the door to his and Lois' office once he's inside. He immediately walks over to the closet and pulls out a fresh pair of trousers and shirt. After he adjusts his tie, he stuffs his jeans and flannel shirt into a bag, then puts it into the bottom drawer of his desk. There's a pounding at the door as he sits down.

"Kent!"

_Oops. _Clark immediately rushes over and unlocks the door. "I'm sorry about that," he apologizes as Mr. White brushes by him into the office. "You're almost two hours late," he says in a gruff voice.

"I'm sorry about that, Mr. White," he says again as he sits down at his desk. "I had an unexpected delay this morning."

"You're full of 'sorries' today," Mr. White glares at him as he slams a manila envelope down on the desk. "I need this proofread and on my desk by noon today."

"Yes sir, Mr. White," Clark replies as he opens the envelope.

"Good," turning around.

Clark swivels his chair around and calls out to him. "Mr. White?"

Perry pauses in the opened doorway and turns around. "What?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Perry looks at him curiously for a moment. "I'll give you five, but that's all I can give you," he says as he closes the door behind him. "So what do you want?"

"I was just wondering if everything is okay with you and Alice."

Perry's eyes narrow. "What makes you think that everything is _not_ okay?"

Clark takes a deep breath, then exhales as he gets up from his chair and stands up, his hands resting on the desk behind him. "We saw you having dinner a couple nights ago at the Grand Ticino with another woman."

Perry's jaw drops at Clark's statement. "We? Who's 'we'?"

"Lois and I."

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"I told her that whatever you did in private was none of our business," he answers back.

"So if you feel that way, then why are you bringing it up now?" Perry asks.

"Because I realized that I think of you as being more than just my boss," he answers truthfully. "I think of you as my friend too."

After a short pause he adds, "You have our word that we'll keep your secret."

Perry leans back against the door and crosses his arms against his chest. "Thank you," he says after a long pause. "Just between us, Alice and I separated two months ago."

Clark lets out a soft sigh. "I'm really sorry to hear that," a solemn expression on his face. "So does that mean you're getting a divorce or-"

"I can't answer that question right now because I don't have an answer to give you," he replies.

Clark gets up and walks over to him. "If there's anything I can do-"

"I appreciate that," he replies with a small smile as he opens the door again. "Don't forget that I need that article done by noon."

"I'll work on it right away," smiling back at him as he sits back down.

"Another thing, Kent."

Clark swivels his chair and looks up. "What?" he asks as he pulls his hazelnut latte out of the paper bag and takes off the lid.

"You can have tomorrow afternoon off."

Clark stares back at him with an arched brow. "Really?"

"I figured you'd need time to get ready for the opera tomorrow."

"What!?" He drops the cup and jumps to his feet as the coffee spills all over the front of his pants. "How did you know I was going to the opera tomorrow? I haven't told anybody about it yet," trying to keep his voice steady as he walks around to Lois' side of their partners' desk and retrieves some paper towels from her bottom desk drawer.

"Oliver Queen called me."

"Why would he call you?"

"He wanted me to know that you were late this morning because you were interviewing him for an article."

Clark looks at his editor with a surprised look as he wipes down his pants. "He said _that?"_

"He did," fixing his eyes on Clark. "I don't recall assigning you such an article."

"You didn't," Clark replies. "I ran into him yesterday at a bakery and we started talking. Before I knew it, he had agreed to an interview for this morning. He's a _very_ interesting man."

"So I've heard," Perry remarks. "Would you care to explain when the opera entered the picture?" Perry asks him.

"He had an extra ticket for tomorrow night. When I said I've never been to the opera, he offered it to me," Clark replied.

Perry looks at him curiously for a moment before stepping out into the hallway. "Well I certainly look forward to reading the article," he finally says with a wink and a smile as he closes the door behind him.

Clark waits until he hears Perry's footsteps disappear down the hall before pulling out his iPhone.

_From CK to OQ: I'm really, __really__ pissed at you._

_From OQ to CK: Why?_

_From CK TO OQ: Why did you call my editor and tell him I was interviewing you?_

_From OQ to CK: Oh, that._

_From CK to OQ: Yes, __that__._

_From OQ to CK: I didn't want you getting into trouble for being late._

_From CK to OQ: I don't __need__ your help. I can take care of myself, thank you very much. _

_From OQ to CK: So you're __not__ happy about getting the afternoon off?_

_Of course I'm happy about it but I'm not about to tell you that, _Clark thinks inwardly as he responds back.

_From CK to OQ: That's not the point._

_From OQ to CK: Then what is it?_

Clark rolls his eyes and rapidly types back a reply.

_From CK to OQ: Never mind. I have to get back to work._

_From OQ to CK: So when do you want to do the interview?_

_I'm not doing the interview, _scowling as he types out his reply.

_From CK to OQ: There will be __no__ interview._

_From OQ to CK: You have to do it._

_From CK to OQ: I'll get out of it._

_From OQ to CK: Not if I have anything to say about it._

_Son of a b!tch! _ Clark mutters to himself as he furiously types.

_From CK to OQ: You are a __real__ pain in my ass, Mr. Queen._

_From OQ to CK: That's not the impression I got from you last night when I was __in__ your ass._

Clark's cheeks turn a deep shade of crimson as he reads Oliver's response. _Damn. I really walked into that one all right._

_From CK to OQ: I really have to get back to work._

_From OQ to CK: Alright, but let me leave you with this last thought._

_From CK to OQ: __Now__ what?_

_From OQ to CK: I decided to go commando tonight after all. _

Clark's mind briefly drifts to the visual in his head of a naked Oliver before giving himself a mental shake.

_From CK to OQ: So you're telling me this because…?_

_From OQ to CK: I thought you'd find it interesting._

_From CK to OQ: Why should I?_

_From OQ to CK: I thought…never mind. So how about it?_

_From CK to OQ: How about __what__?_

_From OQ to CK: How about you going commando too?_

_From CK to OQ: __Bye__, Oliver._

Oliver reads Clark's last reply and laughs out loud before slipping his iPhone into his jacket pocket and looking out the window. _You'll be mine sooner than you think, Mr. Kent, _still laughing to himself as he swivels his chair around and pick up the receiver for the desk phone, dialing a number that he knows by heart.

"This is Oliver Queen," he speaks into the phone as he leans back in his chair. "I need to have something delivered to a Mr. Clark Kent at the Daily Planet this afternoon," a confident grin on his face as he goes on to describe exactly what he wants. "Make sure that it's a Christmas red and not that orangey red," he adds as he goes on to tell them what else he has in mind…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	7. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

**A few hours later…**

Clark looks at the clock on his computer. _Looks like it's time for lunch, _he decides as he logs out before putting on his coat and heading to his favorite deli place. While he's waiting in line, his phone rings again.

_Now__ what does he want? _he frowns at first as he checks the caller id before answering his phone. "How's my beautiful bride-to-be?" he asks with a smile as he moves closer to the counter.

"Better," she answers back with a little smile in her voice. "I was able to get a little more sleep last night."

"You certainly sound like you did," he replies as he adjusts the phone between his ear and shoulder. "So how's your Dad doing?"

"He's still not out of the woods," she says with a sigh.

"He'll find his way out," he says in a reassuring tone.

"I hope you're right," sighing again into the phone.

"So I finally finished my Christmas shopping yesterday," he remarks as he comes closer to the counter.

"_Lucky_ you," a slight hint of jealously in her voice. "I haven't left the hospital since I got here," she replies.

"Well what about your sister? Isn't she there?"

"She's back at Dad's apartment sleeping," Lois replies. "She's been with Dad ever since he was brought in," she adds. "So did you talk to Oliver?" she abruptly changes the subject.

"Oh, _I_ talked to him alright."

There's a brief moment of silence on the other end before she responds. "I _know_ that tone," she says at last.

"You should have told me about his hand _before_ I went to see him," he replies coolly.

"I'm sorry, Clark, but I just-"

"You should have also told me he was gay."

"I'm really sorry, Clark. You're right. I should have told you about his hand, but would it have made a difference if I had told you he was gay?"

"Of course not," he scoffs.

"So tell me. What did you think of him?" she asks him suddenly.

Clark takes a long pause to consider the question. _What do I say to her? That we jumped into bed within a few hours of our first meeting? She would definitely break off the engagement. No, I can't tell her the truth. _

"Smallville? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here," shaking himself out of his reverie as he comes up to the counter. "Can I call you back in a few minutes?"

"Sure."

He hangs up the phone and gives his order to the guy behind the counter. When his sandwich is ready, he pays for it and takes a seat next to the window before calling her back.

"Hello."

"You know it's me," he rolls his eyes slightly but with amusement.

"So for the past few minutes I've been thinking about your lack of an answer to my question and I've come up with a theory."

_This should be good. _"You've got my curiosity piqued. What's is it?"

"I believe that you found him attractive and you don't want to admit it to yourself."

_Can she read my mind? _ "That's a very interesting theory, Lois, but you couldn't be more wrong," he stammers slightly.

"You didn't find his lean, muscular body a turn-on?" she asks coyly.

"No," he gulps thickly as he pulls at his shirt collar.

"What about his smooth golden-colored skin and soft, wavy blonde hair?"

"Nope," he replies while wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.

"So you mean to tell me that you didn't check out his package in those tight jeans he wears? What kind of gay man are you anyway?"

"Lois, I'm warning you-"

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. Don't get your panties in a bunch, Smallville, or should I say _boxers?" _she replies in a teasing tone. "By the way, have you ever tried going commando?" stifling a giggle.

Clark lets out an exasperated sigh. "So let me ask _you_ something," he says before gulping down the last of his iced tea. "Have you told your father that we're getting married yet?"

"Not yet," she replies.

"Why not?" he asks. "Lois?" he says when she doesn't immediately reply.

"It's just that…well…I don't know how well he'll take the news."

"Why wouldn't he?" Clark asks with confusion. "I thought he liked me."

"He _does_ like you. He just never figured that you were husband material…considering you're gay and all."

"Well I did my part. Now it's _your_ turn to do your part," he tells her while taking a bite out of his roast beef sandwich.

"You're right. You're right. I know you're right," she sighs once more. "I'll tell him today as soon as he wakes up. Hopefully he'll be lucid enough to understand."

"Good," he replies as he finishes off his sandwich. "I have to go back to the office because I have to prepare for an interview."

"Oh? Who are you interviewing?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

"Try me."

"Your ex-boyfriend, Oliver Queen."

He could hear her trying to stifle a giggle. "That's _not_ funny!" he snaps back.

"The _hell_ it's not!" letting out the laughter. "How on earth did _that_ happen?" she asks between giggles.

"After our 'meeting' I ended up being a couple hours late for work, so he called Mr. White to let him know that I was doing an interview with him and that's why I was late."

"This is just _too_ funny," still laughing.

"Is not," he retorts. "I really have to go now."

"Alright," she replies.

"Oh, and another thing," he starts to say. "I didn't tell Mr. White about our being engaged because I thought that you'd want us to tell him together."

"Good call," she says. "I'll call you later after I've told my father."

"Talk you later. Bye."

"Bye, Smallville."

He hangs up, then gathers up all his trash and tosses it into the trash bin before exiting the shop. As he's walking down the street he spots a familiar woman sporting a black lace scarf on her head a half a block away. Curious, he quickens his pace and sees her entering a church. Once he arrives at the front door, he pauses a moment before entering.

He starts to walk down the side aisle, looking around until he sees her in one of the pews kneeling down with her hands crossed and her head bent in prayer. He crosses himself from right to left before entering the pew and making his way over to her.

"Hi," he says in a soft voice as he kneels down next to her.

She turns her head. "Where have you been?"

"I don't want to talk about it," looking straight ahead.

"You're _just_ like your father," shaking her head. "I lied to him. I told him you came home last night."

He looks over at her. "Thanks."

She sighs and looks ahead, her hands fiddling with her prayer beads. "What's the matter with you?" Clark asks her.

"Jonathan's cheating on me."

"What?" Clark exclaims softly and rests his hand on her arm. "How do you know this?"

"A wife knows," she gestures with her hand.

"Mom, you don't even know. You're just imagining it. He's too old," he whispers back. When his mother doesn't reply, he stands up. "I have to work late tonight so I won't be home for dinner," leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Martha just sighs as Clark exits the pew and leaves the church. He makes a brief stop at a café that he and Lois frequent to pick up an eggnog milkshake before heading back to the Planet.

**Later that afternoon…**

Jimmy finishes unpacking a carton of pasta. "I feel _great_," he says with a big smile on his face. "I didn't get any sleep, but I feel like Orlando _Furioso_," dropping the empty carton.

"You were a _tiger_ last night," Chloe wiggles her brows and giggles as she goes behind the counter while carrying a large wheel of cheese.

"And you were a lamb, as soft as milk," his voice rising a little.

"Shh!" she hisses at him. "My parents will hear you in the back."

"_So_ what? The pleasure of marriage is that you sleep with the woman. You don't have to worry about anything."

"Be quiet, Jimmy!" she hisses again as she picks up a long two-handed knife.

"How about a date tonight Chloe, huh?" still grinning at her as he walks up to the front of the counter.

"What's the matter with you? Shut up," she retorts as she presses the knife down into the cheese and cuts out a small wedge.

"How about we eat some pasta. We'll roll around a little and-"

"What's gotten into you?" Chloe says as she picks up the wedge of cheese and places it on the scale.

"I don't know. I _really_ don't know," shrugging his shoulders. "That moon. That crazy moon that Mr. K sent over last night," he says as he walks over to one of the tables in the middle of the shop and begins to rearrange some of the items on display.

Just then, the bell rings the door opens. "Hey, Chloe," Clark says with a smile as he comes inside. "I thought that you would both still be at the Planet," he says as he closes the door behind him and walks up to the counter.

"My parents are doing inventory in the back so we offered to help out for a few hours," Chloe replies as she wraps up the cheese and rings it up before handing the package to a young lady. "So what are you doing here?" she asks as Clark takes off his gloves and leans against the counter.

"I thought I'd pick up an antipasto for dinner before I have to do my interview," he replies while looking around. "You know, I never thought that in a million years that the Cappomaggi's would sell this place to your parents."

"I know," Chloe remarks as she pulls out some provolone and salami. "I guess running this place became too hard for them when Mr. Cappomaggi got sick," she says as she takes out a container for the salad.

"Yeah," Clark sighs as he watches Chloe prepare the salad.

Jimmy spots Clark and comes on over. "Hey there!" Jimmy gestures with his arms. _"__You with the stars in your eyes__,_" he sings.

Clark turns to Chloe. "What's the matter with him?"

"I have no idea," rolling her eyes.

"Did you see that moon last night?"

Clark looks up at Jimmy. "What moon?"

"Did you see it?" he asks again.

"No," Clark lies while checking out the items in the display case.

"Oh," a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Here you go," Chloe says as she hands the container to Clark. He starts to take out some money from his wallet but she pushes his hand away. "It's on the house," she says with a smile. "By the way, your Mom's order should be ready tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Chloe," smiling back at her. "I'll stop by tomorrow on my lunch hour and pick it up."

"Oh sure. You've got a date," Jimmy smiles back at him.

"What are you talking about, you fool?" Chloe glares back at him. "Lois is in Washington! What date?"

"Oh, right," he sighs.

"I just have a lot of things to do. You know, wedding stuff and all that," Clark replies.

"Hey!" Jimmy exclaims. "That's romantic too! _Isn't it romantic?_" starting to sing again as he turns away. "Hey, Pete, make me a bowl of minestrone!" he calls out while some of the customers laugh as he heads for the back of the shop.

"That man drives me crazy sometimes," Chloe rolls her eyes again before turning to Clark. "So are you okay?" she asks him suddenly. "You seem somewhat distracted."

"I got a lot on my mind," he replies as he puts his gloves back on.

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he answers back.

"Don't tell me that! What's the matter?"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Clark raises his voice slightly.

"You look like you're nuts," Chloe persists.

He gives her a peck on the cheek. "I don't want to _talk_ about it," he says one more time as he leaves the shop.

He heads back for the Planet and grabs a bottle of Snapple from the refrigerator in the break room before going back to his office. He goes over his interview questions as he's eating his salad, pausing occasionally to drink some of his iced tea. Once he's finished eating, he clears his desk of both the container and bottle, tossing the container in the wastebasket and the glass bottle in the recyclable bin in the corner.

He walks over to the closet and opens the door, his eyes scanning over the contents before picking out a new shirt and a fresh pair of jeans. As he's changing his clothes, he wonders again why he's even bothering meeting with Oliver.

_I could just __kill__ him, _he frowns while taking off his dress shoes and putting on his boots before pulling on his red jacket.

After locking the door, he leaves the office and walks over to the men's room to splash some cold water on his face. He catches his reflection in the mirror while patting his face dry with a paper towel. His eyes squeeze tightly shut, his fingers gripping the edge of the sink while the lustful expressions in Oliver's eyes from when they made love the night before plays over and over again in his head. When his jeans start to feel a little tight in his groin, he once again starts to chant something in his head.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he starts feeling soft once more and opens his eyes. _I still can't believe chanting that always seems to do the trick, _he chuckles wryly as he throws away the paper towel and leaves the restroom.

He starts to head towards the elevator when a man carrying a bag comes up to him. "I have a delivery for a Mr. Clark Kent. Do you know if he's still here by any chance?"

"I'm Clark Kent," looking curiously at him.

"Can you sign here please?" extending the stylus towards Clark. He takes it and signs his name on the hand-held device, then hands it back to the guy.

"Here you go," handing Clark a bag. "Have a nice evening."

"You too," Clark replies as the guy turns around and walks away. He checks the bag for a hint as to who it came from, but he can't find anything. He shrugs his shoulders and carries it into the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby.

_Let's see what this is, _parting the tissue paper as the doors close and the elevator begins to descend. His jaw drops as he reaches into the bag and lifts out a deep red silk shirt, the bag falling to the floor of the elevator.

_He didn't, _shaking his head in disbelief as he continues to look at the shirt. Out of the corner of his eye he spots an envelope in the bag. He stoops down and retrieves it, setting the shirt back in the bag and standing up. He opens the envelope and extracts a folded piece of paper and begins to read it.

_Clark,_

_I thought this color would look __amazing__ on you. I've also included a little extra something in the bag as well. The image I have of taking them off your sexy body is turning me on big time. _

_Enjoy!_

_Oliver_

Clark stoops down again and checks below the tissue paper. _Whoa, _his cheeks flushing as he pulls out several pairs of silk boxer shorts in the colors of red, black, and blue.

He gulps thickly as his fingers caress the silky fabric. _Does he really think that I'm gonna wear these? _shoving them back in the bag along with the shirt and covering them both with the tissue paper. Before he knows it, the elevator has stopped and the doors have opened.

He takes a deep cleansing breath, then slowly exhales. _You can do this, _he tells himself. _You can get through this interview without thinking about how much you want him, _picking up the bag and stepping out of the elevator…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	8. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

**An half hour later…**

Clark looks again at the front door of the café where he told Oliver to meet him. _What is taking him so long? _he wonders again while checking his watch. _He's late on purpose, _muttering under his breath while his fingers continue drumming on the table. Just then, the front door opens.

"Sorry I'm late, but the traffic around the mall was _unbelievable_," Oliver says as he strides over to the table. "Why do people wait until the last minute to do their Christmas shopping anyway? frowning as he sits down.

"I don't know," Clark mutters as Oliver picks up the menu and scans it quickly before setting it back down on the table. "I know what I want," he says just as the waitress comes over.

"May I take your order now?" she asks Clark.

"I'll have a medium decaf coffee with milk and sugar on the side," Clark replies.

"Anything else?"

"A couple cannoli's," he tells her.

She turns to Oliver. "And what would _you_ like, sir?"

"I'll have a large regular black coffee and some of your delicious tiramisu," he replies with a smile as he hands her the menu.

"Very well," she smiles back as she takes the menu from him. After she leaves, he starts to say something when Clark takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair. "I was hoping you'd be wearing the new shirt," a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"I'm glad you brought that up," Clark replies and picks up the bag he had set down beneath the table. "Thank you, but I can't possibly accept it," placing the bag on the table and sliding it towards Oliver.

"I said I'd buy you a new shirt to make up for the one I ripped and I _always_ keep my promises," sliding the bag back towards Clark.

"It's one thing to buy me a shirt, but it's quite another to buy me…well…you know," lowering his voice at the end.

"Boxers, Clark. They're called boxers," Oliver replies in a normal tone of voice.

"Well I don't think that giving intimate apparel to someone you barely know is appropriate," Clark declares and once again pushes the bag towards Oliver.

"I think it is _entirely_ appropriate considering we had some mind-blowingsex last night. In fact, I think I should have gotten you some thongs instead. I bet you would look _really_ sexy in them," his voice lowering to a throaty whisper as he slides the bag over to Clark again.

Clark takes a long pause before responding. "_Fine_. I'll keep them, but don't think you're gonna see me in them," grabbing the bag and putting it back underneath the table.

_That's what __you__ think_, Oliver smiles inwardly as the waitress brings over their drinks and desserts, then leaves. "This looks delicious," he says as he inserts his fork into the tiramisu and takes a bite. "I was right. It _is_ delicious," taking another bite. "Almost better than sex. _Almost_," giving Clark a flirtatious wink. "Would you like to try it?" extending a forkful towards him.

"I don't know," Clark hesitates. "I already have my cannoli's," holding one up.

"One bite won't hurt," Oliver counters. "Come on. Try it," he insists.

"Well…okay," reaching out for the fork.

"Nope," Oliver shakes his head and holds the fork out of reach. "Let me. Open your mouth."

Clark hesitates again, but the expression on Oliver's face changes his mind and he opens his mouth.

"Now that's a good boy," Oliver grins as he slips the fork into Clark's mouth.

Clark's eyes slowly close as his lips close around the fork. "Mmm," he moans softly as the flavors of the cake swirl around in his mouth.

"Didn't I tell you that it was delicious?" Oliver winks again as he pulls the fork away and sets it down.

_I'd love to put more than just your fork in my mouth. In fact, I'd also love your mouth on my… _Clark's eyes pop open at that thought. _No, Clark, _he tells himself. _You're here to do an interview. _Out loud he says, "I think we should get to the interview," Clark replies in a slightly nervous tone as he adds some milk and sugar to his coffee before taking a sip.

"Alright," Oliver replies.

"I just want to get this over with," Clark pauses a minute in order to pull out his recorder. "I'm gonna ask you some questions and I just want you to answer them as honestly as you can."

"You can ask me anything. _Nothing_ is off limits," Oliver says in a teasing tone.

For the next hour, Clark asks him questions that he had written down. Finally he shuts off the recorder and puts it into his jacket pocket along with his list of questions. "So is that it?" Oliver asks.

"Yes," Clark replies as he finishes off his second cup of coffee.

"Good, because I'd like to ask _you_ a question."

Clark looks over at him with a raised brow. "Like what?"

"Like when was the first time you ever kissed a guy?"

Clark sighs and leans back against the chair. "I had just come back from backpacking in Europe after having taken some time out after finishing college. I was dating my wife at the time. Anyway, we had gone to the Daily Planet's New Year's Eve party and almost everybody was drunk out of their minds. When it was almost midnight, I started looking around for her because we had gotten separated. Just as midnight struck a guy that I had never met before came up to me and planted a kiss on me, then he staggered away."

"So how was the kiss?" Oliver asks next as he takes another sip of his coffee.

"It was…_nice_," a dreamy smile on his face.

"Just…_nice?"_ Oliver quirks a brow.

"More than nice," Clark replies with a smile. "It was the most _amazing_ kiss I had ever had…until last night that is," his cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

"So if it was the most _amazing_ kiss you ever had, then why did you end up marrying her in the first place?"

"I was still denying my true feelings to myself, but…"

"But what?" Oliver asks him as he takes another bite out of his tiramisu.

"She got pregnant."

Oliver drops his fork and stares back at Clark in shock. "You have a _kid?"_

"_Had_ a kid," Clark shakes his head sadly. "He was three months premature and…" his voice breaking.

Oliver hands him a handkerchief. "I'm _so_ sorry, Clark."

Clark doesn't respond as he wipes his eyes before handing the handkerchief back to him.

Oliver waves it off. "Keep it. I have plenty of them."

"Thank you," blowing his nose and slipping it into his pocket. "When Lois brought up the subject of marriage, I thought it would be my last chance to be a father. That's why I agreed to marry her." He looks over at Oliver. "What about you? Do you see yourself having kids someday?"

"I haven't really thought about it in a _long_ time," Oliver admits after a long pause. "My ex and I planned on adopting a couple kids after we got married, but then we broke up and I put it out of my mind."

Clark nods his head in understanding as they continue eating their desserts.

"So does Lois know about the baby?"

"She knows," Clark replies. "It's one of those subjects that's just _too_ painful to talk about all that much. Even my parents don't talk about it. It's not that they deny that it ever happened but…" his voice trailing off.

"I understand," Oliver reaches out to lay his hand over Clarks.

Clark doesn't say anything; instead resting his other hand over Oliver's. They stare at each other for what seems like a long time before he averts his gaze. "So can we talk about something else?" he asks as he reluctantly pulls his hand away.

"Of course," Oliver replies as he picks up his fork again while Clark bites into one of the cannoli's. "Let's get back to the subject of that _amazing _kiss. Do you remember _anything_ about the man that kissed you?" Oliver asks after a little while.

"The mystery man wasn't the only one who had a few too many drinks that night," Clark shakes his head. "All I remember is that he had blonde hair and was wearing a unique looking pin on the lapel of his jacket."

"Pin?" Oliver asks with interest. "What did it look like?"

"I think it was some kind of family crest," he replies as he picks up another cannoli. "It had a depiction of arrows on it and-" his jaw dropping as he stares at Oliver's jacket. "Where did you get that?" pointing at Oliver's jacket.

"Get what?" Oliver looks at him with confusion.

"_That," Clark_ pointing at the pin on Oliver's lapel. "_Where_ did you get it?" he repeats.

"That's my family crest," Oliver says before the meaning behind Clark's words finally hit him. "_Wait_ a minute. Are you saying that _I_ was the one who kissed you that night?" his eyes widening.

Clark continues to stare at Oliver in shock. "It _can't_ be," shaking his head in disbelief.

Oliver's mouth opens and closes several times, but no words come out.

"I don't believe it!" Clark declares and leans back in his seat. "I just don't believe it! How on earth did I not realize it when you kissed me last night? I knew there was something _amazing _about it, but I never would have guessed the reason why."

"Maybe it was because it happened such a long time ago," Oliver says at last.

Clark nods his head. "You're probably right."

Oliver leans forward. "Look, Clark, I know I was drunk that night, but I never forgot that kiss either. When Clark looks at him warily he adds, "I _know_ what you're thinking. You're wondering how I could have not forgotten an _amazing_ kiss like that when I don't even remember giving it."

"That's _exactly_ what I was thinking," Clark replies with an arch of his brow.

"I wish I could explain why but I can't," he shrugs his shoulders with a sigh. "You know what else I remember?"

"No, what?" Clark asks as he sips his coffee.

"I also remember Lois finding me in the elevator shortly after that kiss. You've seen her angry, right? Well that was nothing compared to how she was that night."

"_Wait_ a minute," Clark gestures with his hand. "Was that the night the two of you broke up?"

"Yeah," Oliver replies with a nod of his head. "She saw me kiss you but she never saw who it was I was kissing because of where she was standing," he adds. "_That_ was also the night that I realized that I only wanted to be with men. Until that time I considered myself a bisexual, but after that kiss…yeah I was definitely sure," he smiles back at Clark.

"I still can't believe it," Clark says with a chuckle. "What a coincidence it was that you were the first man I ever kissed."

"I don't believe in coincidences," Oliver replies with a grin. "It's fate. That's what it is."

"I don't know about that," Clark remarks as he stands up.

"Where are you going?" Oliver asks, looking up at him.

"I want to finish up this article tonight before I go to bed," putting on his jacket and picking up the bag.

"Will you need a ride home?" Oliver asks as he gets up from his chair and inserts several bills inside the check cover. "I have the limo parked right outside."

"Thanks for offering but I think I'll walk home. The fresh air will do me good," he says as they walk together towards the front door of the café. "I'll see you tomorrow night," Clark adds as he puts on his hat and gloves before stepping outside. "Good night."

Oliver leans forward and presses his lips softly on Clark's cheek. "Good night," he whispers softly before turning around and getting into his limo.

Clark stood there with his fingers lightly touching the spot on his cheek where Oliver kissed him. He remained there until the limo pulled away, then he began to make the long walk home.

**About an hour later…**

Clark enters the house and hangs up his coat. "Mom?" he calls out as he takes off his boots and sets them down in front of the coat rack.

"Upstairs," his mother calls out.

He smiles as he heads upstairs, briefly stopping in his room to drop off his wallet, keys, and the present from Oliver. "Where are you?" he asks as he steps into the hallway.

"In the bathroom," she replies.

He walks over and sees her standing in the doorway watching an older man checking the pipes. She turns around. "You're home earlier than I thought," giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"What's going on?" he asks as he gives her one back.

"You were right about the pipes. It looks like they'll have to be replaced," she says with a sigh.

The man turns around. "Hi, Clark. Merry Christmas."

"Hi, Mr. Castorini, and Merry Christmas to you too," Clark says with a smile.

"How many times have I told you to call me _Cosmo_," he replies as they shake hands.

"Too many to count," Clark smiles back. "It's been a long time. How are you? How's the family?" he asks.

"I'm fine. The wife is fine," he replies. "Loretta just got married about six months ago and is expecting a baby."

"That's great news," Clark says in a sincere tone. "How far along is she?"

"Two months," he replies.

"I'm getting married in a couple months," Clark tells him. "Valentine's Day."

"Congratulations," Cosmo replies.

"Thanks."

"So do you have an estimate?" Martha asks him.

"I do," Cosmo says as he steps out of the tub. "Here it is," handing her a piece of paper.

Clark looks over her shoulder as she's reading it. "Are you _sure_ about this figure?"

"I'm positive," he replies as he closes his tool box.

"Your father is not going to be happy about this when I show him this," waving the piece of paper at him.

Cosmo looks over at her as he puts on his coat. "I think you know that the kind of pipe you have right now is garbage…and you can see where that's gotten you. You _could_ go with bronze, which is very good, but something _always_ goes wrong with it."

"So what do you use?" Clark asks him.

"I only use copper," he replies. "It may cost more, but in the long run it _saves_ money."

Martha turns to Clark. "What do you think?"

"Well…" hesitating for a moment before turning to Cosmo. "No offense, but I think we should get a second estimate."

"I understand," Cosmo replies. "I always recommend getting a second estimate," he adds as he puts on his gloves and fedora.

"So does this mean that we can't use the water at _all?"_ Clark asks as they all head downstairs.

"We can use the toilet, but not the shower," he says as Martha opens the front door. "The pipes in the kitchen are fine. The original owners were smart enough to put copper pipes in there to begin with, but why they didn't for the shower is _beyond_ me," he rolls his eyes.

"Damn," Clark frowns. "I suppose I could take one at the gym in the morning."

"I thought the Daily Planet already had a workout room," Martha looks at Clark curiously.

"It won't be open until mid-January," he replies. "That's why I'm still going to the gym."

"I see," Martha remarks before turning back to Cosmo. "Thanks for being able to come out on such short notice."

"Any time, Martha," he smiles and gives her a peck on the cheek. "Rose would have my head if I didn't ask the three of you to come over for dinner next week."

"That would be lovely. I just have to check with Jonathan though," says Martha.

"Naturally your groom-to-be is invited as well," he turns to Clark.

Clark and Martha exchange glances. "I'm…ah…marrying a woman."

Cosmo arches a brow. "I see. Well tell her she's invited too."

"I will," says Clark. "She always loves a good home-cooked meal."

Cosmo chuckles as he steps outside. "Let me know what you decide about the pipes, Martha."

"I'll talk to Jonathan and we'll let you know. Thanks again," Martha replies.

"Anytime," flashing her a wink as he heads down the stairs.

She locks the door and leans back against it with a sigh.

"Dad's not going to like it at all," crossing his arms against his chest. "Where is he by the way?"

"I don't know," she sighs again. "He _still_ won't talk to me."

Clark comes over to her and wraps his arm around her shoulders. "You don't still think that he's cheating on you, do you?"

She lays her head on his shoulder. "When I was sorting the clothes so I could do laundry, I caught a whiff of perfume on one of his shirts. It wasn't mine," a hint of pain in her voice.

He kisses the top of her head. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for it."

"I hope you're right," she replies before lifting her head and looking up at him. "I think I'm gonna turn in. I'm beat," yawning as she pulls away from Clark and starts walking up the staircase.

"Mom," he calls up to her. She turns around. "Do you want me to tell Dad about the estimate?"

"No," shaking her head. "I'll wait until the morning and show it to him then," giving him a small smile before heading back upstairs.

_I think I'll make myself a cup of hot chocolate, _he decides and promptly walks into the kitchen. As he's stirring the hot chocolate mix into the hot milk, he hears the front door opening and footsteps coming towards the kitchen. "Hey, Dad," Clark says as he picks up his mug and takes a sip.

"I thought you were supposed to be working late tonight," Jonathan remarks as he comes into the kitchen and heads for the refrigerator.

"I finished with my interview sooner than I expected, so I just decided to come home and write the article instead of staying at the Planet," he responds as he sits down at the kitchen table. "So where have you been?" he asks as Jonathan pulls out a beer and pops the cap off.

"Out," he replies tersely as he takes a slug.

Clark slams his mug down on the table, startling Jonathan. "What's going on with you, Dad? Why have you been so moody lately? Mom and I are both concerned about you."

"I don't want to talk about it," finishing off the beer and tossing it into the recyclable bin.

"Dad-"

"I'm going to bed. Goodnight," abruptly turning around and going upstairs.

Clark shakes his head sadly and finishes up his hot chocolate, then sets it down in the sink and heads upstairs, but not before retrieving the tape recorder from his jacket pocket along with the list of questions he asked Oliver. After he changes into his nightwear, he sits down on the bed and turns on his laptop. As he's waiting for it to boot up, he wipes his glasses and thinks about one of the questions he asked Oliver.

"_So you were stuck on an island for two years. How did you manage to survive all that time without all the conveniences of modern life?" Clark asks him._

"_It wasn't easy at first," Oliver admits. "I was pretty spoiled at the time. I had everybody doing things for me - but when I was on that island, I had to fend for myself for the first time in my entire life. I had to find shelter, build a fire, hunt and fish for food. In short, re-learn all the basic necessities of life."_

"_Speaking of hunting, you became quite skilled at archery. How long did it take you to master it?"_

"_I'm not sure how long it took me. I didn't have a calendar so I couldn't keep track of my progress," Oliver replies with a smile. "After I was rescued I joined an archery club. That's when I became a master at it."_

"_Do you still keep it up?" Clark asks next._

"_I keep a lot of things up," Oliver answers with a wink, causing Clark to gulp and adjust his collar. _

"_So have you ever gone back to that island?" Clark asks as he recovers his composure._

_Oliver nods his head. "I go back there once in a while to regroup whenever the stress of running the company gets to me. The peace and quiet does me a world of good," he smiles at Clark before leaning forward. _

"_One of these days you should come and see it for yourself," he says in a voice full of hidden meaning. "I built a small place there. I'm sure you'd love it. A big four-poster bed, wood-burning fireplace," his hand reaching out to lightly caress Clark's fingers._

Clark shakes himself out of his reverie and turns on the tape recorder and begins to transcribe his notes…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	9. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

**A couple hours later…**

Clark finished up his article and was getting ready to log out when an instant message suddenly pops up on his screen. A smile comes across his face as he reads it.

_From OQ to CK: Hey, you._

_From CK to OQ: Ditto._

_From OQ to CK: Droll. __Very__ droll. I'm rolling my eyes right now._

_From CK to OQ: Well I'm laughing._

_From OQ to CK: So what were you doing just now?_

_From CK to OQ: I just finished the article for the interview._

_From OQ to CK: Sounds like fun._

_From CK to OQ: It's your own damn fault for telling Mr. White that I was doing an article on you. Why on earth did you do that?_

_From OQ to CK: Because I wanted to see you again._

_From CK to OQ: You were going to see me tomorrow night at the opera. What's the big deal?_

_From OQ to CK: Because I can't stop thinking about last night and how amazing it was._

Clark pauses for a long moment before he answers back.

_From CK to OQ: It __was__ an amazing night. You were incredible._

_From OQ to CK: I could say the same about you. _

_From CK to OQ: Stop. You're making me blush._

_From OQ to CK: I loved seeing you blush last night. If I remember correctly, you were blushing all over._

_From CK to OQ: I couldn't help myself._

_From OQ to CK: Well I'm glad you couldn't._

_I think it's time to change the subject, _Clark decides as he types out his next response.

_From CK to OQ: I was just about to log out when your message popped up._

_From OQ to CK: So can I assume that you're already in your comfy flannel pajamas?_

_From CK to OQ: You're half right. I wear pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. What do you wear to bed?_

_From OQ to CK: I don't wear anything._

_From CK to OQ: You sleep naked?_

_From OQ to CK: I've been sleeping naked since I was stranded on the island._

_From CK to OQ: Last night was the first time I ever slept naked the entire night. I really liked it. _

_From OQ to CK: What about when you were married? Didn't you sleep naked with her?_

Clark takes another long pause before answering.

_From CK to OQ: My wife was three months pregnant when we got married. She didn't want to have sex while she was pregnant. After we lost the baby our sex life became practically non-existent so there really wasn't any point in sleeping naked. _

_From OQ to CK: I'm sorry to hear that._

_From CK to OQ: It's okay. It was a long time ago so no worries._

_From OQ to CK: I still think that you should sleep naked more often._

_From CK to OQ: I'll think about it._

_From OQ to CK: Don't think about it. Just do it._

_From CK to OQ: What am I…Niki?_

_From OQ to CK: I'm being serious here._

_From CK to OQ: Give me one good reason why I should do it._

_From OQ to CK: Because there wouldn't be any obstacles in your way should you have the need to give Clark Jr. some relief._

_From CK to OQ: I don't really do 'that' too much._

_From OQ to CK: You __are__ kidding, aren't you?_

_From CK to OQ: Not everybody does, you know._

_From OQ to CK: If anybody needs to do it more often, it's you, Clark. You need it bad, sweet cheeks._

_From CK to OQ: Why do you keep calling me 'sweet cheeks'?_

Oliver laughs to himself as he presses 'send.'

_From OQ to CK: Because you have 'sweet cheeks' but mainly because I love getting a rise out of you. I bet Clark Jr. is rising even as we speak._

Clark looks down at his lap and sees the tenting of his boxers. _Damn you, Oliver, _he mutters inwardly as he types out his next response.

_From CK to OQ: Will you __please__ stop talking like that?_

_From OQ to CK: Stop talking like what?_

_From CK to OQ: Talking dirty, that's what._

_From OQ to CK: No can do._

_From CK to OQ: Why not?_

_From OQ to CK: Because you __love__ to hear me talk dirty to you. You __need__ it. You __crave__ it. _

_From CK to OQ: No, I don't._

_From OQ to CK: I'm telling you that you do. I know I'd be turned on big time if you were to tell me all about the naughty things you want to do to me. _

_From CK to OQ: I don't want to do things to you._

_From OQ to CK: Yeah, right. You're thinking about it right now._

_From CK to OQ: Ugh!_

_From OQ to CK: Hit a nerve did I? _

_From CK to OQ: You are __sooo__ exasperating. I'm pulling out my hair as we speak._

_From OQ to CK: Don't do that because I __love__ gliding my fingers through it._

_I don't know why I'm responding to this, _shaking his head as he clicks on 'send.'

_From CK to OQ: So you really don't care for bald men?_

_From OQ to CK: I'm an equal opportunity lover. _

_From CK to OQ: You are?_

_From OQ to CK: Sure I am. In fact, my ex-fiancé was completely bald. He may not have had hair, but he made up for it in other ways. _

_From CK to OQ: He was that good, huh?_

Oliver stares at Clark's last message and sighs before sending his response.

_From OQ to CK: He was… good._

Clark reads Oliver's last message with a confused expression on his face. _That's weird, _he thinks to himself as he reads it again_. _

_From CK to OQ: Just __good__?_

Oliver hesitates for a long moment before he finally responds.

_From OQ to CK: I've never admitted this to anyone before, but he was a very selfish lover. He always had to be on the bottom. _

Clark stares in shock at Oliver's admission and doesn't answer back right away. Finally he types out a response and clicks on 'send.'

_From CK to OQ: Then why did you lie to me about always having to be on top? _

Oliver hesitates again before sending his reply.

_From OQ to CK: I didn't lie. Well, not exactly._

_From CK to OQ: What does __that__ mean?_

_From OQ to CK: It's true that before I met him that I wanted to have all the control by being on top. _

_From CK to OQ: And __after__ you met him?_

_From OQ to CK: I wanted to be on the bottom._

Clark's eyes glisten as he realizes what Oliver was not saying. He wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his t-shirt before typing out his response.

_From CK to OQ: Because you loved him._

Oliver stares at the word 'love' for a long moment before responding.

_From OQ to CK: Yeah, but he would never give in. He told me that he was always in control when running his business so he wanted to __not__ be in control when it came to sex._

_From CK to OQ: I see._

_I think it's time to change the direction of this conversation, _Oliver decides as he types out his next message.

_From OQ to CK: When I said I loved gliding my fingers through your hair, I wasn't just talking about the hair on your head._

Clark reads the message, his eyes widening in shock at first. Once he recovers his composure, a big grin slowly appears on his face. _If that's the game he wants to play then I can play it too, _swiftly typing out his response. _Take __that__, Oliver Queen, _he declares as he presses the 'enter' button.

_From CK to OQ: You need someone to give you a proper spanking, you dirty boy._

Oliver stares at the message from Clark and chuckles with amusement. _Well, well. Sounds like someone's getting into the game at last._

_From OQ to CK: Are you volunteering?_

_From CK to OQ: Let's just say that the visual I have of you sprawled across my lap wearing __only__ a Santa's cap while I'm spanking your sexy ass is a very pleasant one to say the least. _

Oliver laughs as he replies to Clark's comment.

_From OQ to CK: Santa's cap, huh? Mmm…_

_From CK to OQ: Enjoying it already?_

_From OQ to CK: I'm hard just thinking about your big, strong masculine hand slapping my bare ass. _

_From CK to OQ: I can practically hear the throaty gasps and moans coming out of your mouth as my hand makes hard contact with your bare ass over and __over__ again._

_From OQ to CK: What about your other hand?_

_From CK to OQ: What about it?_

_From OQ to CK: What is your other hand doing in the meantime?_

Clark leans back against the pillows and ponders his next move before he begins to type. _I can't wait to see his response to this one_.

_From CK to OQ: My other hand is wrapped around Ollie Jr. and squeezing it hard. __Very__ hard._

_From OQ to CK: I can feel your hand stroking me right now._

_From CK to OQ: Feels good huh?_

_From OQ to CK: Oh, yeah._

_I can't believe I'm actually having this conversation, _Clark smiles inwardly as he types out his next message.

_From CK to OQ: So on a scale of 1 to 10, how hard would you say you are right now?_

_From OQ to CK: Hard enough that you would need super-strength to squeeze it._

_From CK to OQ: You didn't answer my question._

_From OQ to CK: 11._

_From CK to OQ: That's hard all right._

_From OQ to CK: What about you?_

_From CK to OQ: What about me?_

_From OQ to CK: How hard are __you__ on a scale of 1 to 10?_

Clark thinks about it for a minute, then smiles as he types out his answer.

_From CK to OQ: I would have to take off my pajama bottoms in order to make a proper diagnosis. _

_From OQ to CK: Then do it. While you're at it, take off your t-shirt and glasses too._

_From CK to OQ: I need my glasses to read._

Oliver reads Clark's response and smiles to himself. _This is getting better and better, _he thinks as he reclines against the pillows and waits for about a minute before he starts typing again.

Meanwhile, Clark has an inner debate with himself for a moment before finally pulling off his t-shirt and pushing his pajama bottoms down. He steps out of them and hesitates again before also removing his boxers and sitting back down on the bed, pulling the blanket up to the middle of his chest with his computer on his lap.

_From OQ to CK: Are you naked yet?_

_From CK to OQ: Yes._

_From OQ to CK: You still have the glasses on, don't you?_

_From CK to OQ: I told you that I need them to read._

_From OQ to CK: Then why did you keep them on last night when we were together?_

_From CK to OQ: Force of habit, I guess._

_From OQ to CK: So you're telling me that you keep your glasses on when you go to sleep at night?_

_From CK to OQ: That's __not__ what I'm telling you. Now I'm the one rolling my eyes._

_From OQ to CK: You __really__ need to get contacts._

_From CK to OQ: Get in line behind Lois because she keeps pestering me about it._

_From OQ to CK: Well at least that's something that Lois and I can agree on. _

_From CK to OQ: Can we __please__ drop the subject?_

_From OQ to CK: __Fine__. Keep them on. So what's the verdict? How hard are you?_

_From CK to OQ: Same as you._

_From OQ to CK: So you're at an 11?_

_From CK to OQ: That's right._

_From OQ to CK: Are you going to do anything about it?_

_From CK to OQ: I was just about to ask you the same question._

_From OQ to CK: You read my mind. You must be psychic._

Clark shuts off the bedside lamp and throws off the blanket, the only light in the room coming from the moon outside and his laptop.

_From CK to OQ: I wouldn't call it being psychic._

_From OQ to CK: So answer my question already. What are you going to do about it?_

Clark takes a deep breath, then exhales before he answers back.

_From CK to OQ: Nothing. I can't type with one hand._

Clark expects another message but his phone rings instead. "Hello."

"It's me."

"I know that. I do have caller id you know," he replies in an annoyed tone as he sets his laptop down on the bedside table. "So what's up?" he asks as he finally takes his glasses off and sets them down next to his laptop.

"I figured it would be _much_ easier for you to use one hand to hold the phone and the other hand to take care of Clark Jr.'s predicament."

"Are you saying that you want to talk _dirty_ over the phone?" Clark asks in a slightly nervous tone. "I've never done that."

"Really," Oliver sounding a little surprised. "You seem like a natural just now."

"It's one thing to type the words, but quite another to say and hear them," Clark answers back as his hand glides down his stomach towards his groin.

"You have a point," Oliver replies as he lowers his hand to his groin and wraps his fingers around his length. "So what is your hand doing now?" he asks, his eyes closing as he starts gently pulling and squeezing himself.

"My hand is…uh…gliding down towards my stomach," Clark's voice lowering an octave. His eyes also close as he wraps his hand around his length and begins to slide it up and down, his hand becoming slick with his arousal.

"_Now_ what is your hand doing?" Oliver asks while squeezing himself harder.

"My hand is…uh…squeezing Clark Jr. harder," his face contorting with pleasure. "What about you?" he gasps out as he gradually increases the speed and pressure of his strokes while his other hand reaches above his head to grip the pillow.

"The same," Oliver groans as he moves his hand faster and pulls harder while his other one grabs onto the bedpost above him.

"_Mmm_," Clark moans louder as the tightness he feels in his groin increases with every hard stroke he gives himself.

Oliver gets harder and harder just listening to the delightful sounds coming out of Clark's mouth.

"_Oh_, _yes_," Oliver cries out as his orgasm rapidly approaches. "Come with me, Clark. _Come_ with me," he whispers at last as his back arches and his legs begin to stiffen.

That's all Clark needed to hear as he throws his head back and shoves his other fist in his mouth to keep from crying out as he comes hard, his body shuddering from the rapture of finding release at the same time as he hears Oliver experiencing his own climax. He drops the phone, his hand letting go of himself as his entire body goes limp and the shudders continue to make their presence known.

After a few minutes of recovering from his release, Oliver finally opens his eyes and looks around for his phone. When he spots it lying on the floor, he picks it up and returns to the bed. "Clark? Are you still there?" he asks as he settles back against the pillows.

Clark dimly hears Oliver's voice coming from his phone and opens his eyes at last. He reaches for it and puts it to his ear. "I'm here," wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "That was…intense," he says at last.

"It was," Oliver agrees.

"So I think that I…uh…should get some sleep."

"Me too."

"I'll…uh…see you tomorrow night at the opera," Clark tells him.

"Okay," says Oliver. "Oh, and Clark?"

"Yes, Oliver?"

"I had a wonderful time tonight – and not just about what happened a few minutes ago," Oliver tells him.

"So did I," Clark replies with a smile in his voice. "Oh, and one more thing, Oliver."

"What?" he asks.

"You were right. I should do it more often."

"I told you. Feel free to give me a call should you require some additional 'stimulation.'

Clark can't help chuckling. "I'll keep that in mind. Good _night_, Oliver."

"Good night, Clark. See you tomorrow night."

After Clark hangs up, he looks down at the bed sheets and sees the evidence of what he just did. _I better change them before Mom sees them and starts asking questions. _He pulls them off and stuffs them in a laundry bag and hides the bag in his closet before putting new sheets on the bed.

He's about to lay down when he spots his discarded sleepwear still lying on the floor. He stands there debating whether or not to put them back on.

_Nah, _he decides as lays his head on the pillow and pulls the blanket up over him, a _very_ satisfied grin on his face as he drifts off to sleep, images of Oliver in his dreams…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	10. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

**Early the next morning…**

Clark was still asleep when there's a light knocking on his bedroom door. "Clark?" Martha says in a soft tone. "Clark? Are you awake?" turning the doorknob and opening the door. She smiles at the peaceful look on his face before walking over to the bed and giving him a gentle nudge on his upper arm. "You have to get up."

"A few more minutes," he mumbles as he rolls over in the opposite direction.

Her eyes pop out of her head as the blanket slides down past his waist and reveals some of his naked backside. She immediately averts her eyes and quickly exits the room. _I didn't know he slept naked, _she thinks before going back downstairs.

Clark fully wakes up a few minutes later and stretches his body out before getting out of bed. _Oliver was right. I should sleep naked more often, _he smiles to himself as he puts on his workout clothes before grabbing his duffle bag. "I'm leaving, Mom," he calls out as he's heads down the stairs.

She comes out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel. "You're going to work like that?" eying his casual attire.

"I told you last night that I was going to the gym this morning to work out, then take a shower," he tells her.

"Sorry, I forgot," she replies as he puts on his coat, then his gloves and hat.

He gives her a gentle squeeze and a peck on the cheek. "I'll be going out tonight so I won't be home for dinner," he tells her as he winds his scarf around his neck.

"Will I see you at all today?"

"Mr. White gave me the afternoon off so I'll probably see you then."

"I probably won't be here until late because I'm getting together with some of my girlfriends from the _Red Hats Society_," she responds.

"Oh, okay," he replies. "I guess I'll see Dad then."

"He's playing pinochle this afternoon so I'm not sure when he'll be back either."

"Did you tell him about the estimate on the plumbing yet?"

"I ended up telling him last night after all. I'm surprised you didn't hear all the yelling," looking at him curiously.

_That must have been when Oliver and I were… _"I must have been sound asleep," he said out loud while shrugging his shoulders. "I assume that Dad didn't take the news too well?"

"You assume right," she answers with a shake of her head. "He talked to a couple other plumbers he knows and got estimates from them."

"So what did they say?" Clark asks.

"They were higher," she replies.

"So does that mean that you're going with Mr. Castorini?"

"That's exactly what it means," she answers back. "Unfortunately he won't be able to start work on the shower until the day after Christmas."

"I'll just continue going to the gym for my showers. What are you and Dad gonna do in the meantime?"

"Jimmy and Chloe said we can use their shower until we have ours fixed," she replies.

"Good thing they live next door," he remarks while opening the door, but then he pauses in the doorway. "Do you think I should get contacts?" he asks her suddenly.

She turns around. "Contacts? I thought you didn't like them?" looking at him curiously.

"I never really said that," he replies. "What do you think? Should I get them?"

She walks over to him. ""Clark, it doesn't really matter what people think, or what _I _think. What matters the most is what _you_ think."

"That's just it. I don't know," he says with a sigh.

She rests her hands on his shoulders. "You'll figure it out," giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah," he replies as he glances down at his watch. "Look at the time. I better leave so that I won't be late again. I'll see you when I come home tonight."

"I'll see you then," waving back at him as he heads down the stairs and to the gym. After he's finished with his workout, he takes a shower before heading to work. He spent the morning talking to some of his confidential sources for an ongoing series of articles he's been writing while also polishing up the interview article.

After he hands in the article, Clark logs out of his computer and closes up the office around noontime. He adjusts the scarf around his neck while exiting the building.

_It feels like snow. Maybe it will be a white Christmas after all, _he thinks to himself as he puts on his gloves before crossing the street. While doing some window shopping, he wonders what to do for the rest of the afternoon before he has to get ready for the opera that evening.

He stops in front of the barber shop he usually frequents. He hesitates for a moment before opening the door. "Hi, Dominic," he says to the head barber as he enters the shop, the little bell on the door making a tinkling sound as he closes it behind him. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Clark," he answers back with a smile. "The usual?" he asks as he leads Clark over to one of the chairs.

"No," shaking his head as he sits down in the chair. "I want to do something different."

"Alright," Dominic replies while draping the cape over Clark's chest and tying it behind his neck. "So what do you want to do this time?" he asks while picking up a comb and a pair of scissors.

"I want you to take out the gray."

The scissors drop to the floor with a clatter while Dominic stares at Clark with disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"_Dead_ serious," Clark replies as he takes off his glasses and puts them in his pocket.

"I've been wanting to do this for _three_ years!" he grins widely as he gestures to one of the other barbers. "Hey, Raymond. Clark wants to take out the gray."

"It's _about_ time," Raymond declares as he walks over to them. "He'll need a haircut too," fingering Clark's hair.

"Not too short," Clark tells them.

"I agree," says Raymond, turning to Dominic. "I'll cut his hair and you take out the gray."

"Agreed," Dominic says and steps to the side as Raymond leads Clark over to the sink.

After washing Clark's hair, he brings him back to the chair. "So tell me what changed your mind about taking out the gray?" he asks as he starts to cut.

"I'm going to the opera tonight," Clark replies.

"_La Boheme_?" asks Raymond as he trims the hair on Clark's neck.

"Yeah," Clark answers back.

"Have you ever been to the opera?" Dominic asks as he brings Clark back to the sink and begins the process of taking out the gray.

"No," Clark replies. "It's a first for me."

"I took Monica to see it a few years ago and we both _loved_ it," Dominic says with a smile as he distributes the coloring through Clark's hair.

"I've only heard some of the score," Clark remarks as Dominic puts a cap over Clark's hair and sets the timer for ten minutes.

"What did you think of it?"

"It sounded melancholy to me."

"Well if you feel that way just from hearing it on a recording, then you won't believe the feeling when you hear it in person," Dominic remarks.

"He's right," Raymond remarks as he walks over to them. "I saw it with Rita the night after Dominic and his wife saw it."

They continue to chit chat for the next few minutes until the timer goes off. Dominic takes off the cap and turns on the warm water to rinse out the excess coloring solution. He towels off Clark's hair before leading him back over to the chair while keeping him facing away from the mirror.

"It looks so much better without the gray," Dominic remarks as he turns on a hairdryer and picks up a round brush to style Clark's hair. After a short while, Dominic shuts off the dryer and sets it down.

"So what do you think?" pulling off the cape and swiveling the chair around so that Clark could see for himself.

Clark stares back at his reflection. "I can't believe that's me," he says at last.

"You look almost ten years younger," Raymond remarks as Clark continues to gaze at his reflection.

"Sexier," Dominic counters while flashing Clark a wink. "So who's the lucky guy anyway?"

"It's not like that at all," Clark insists as he stands up and puts his glasses back on. "I did an interview with someone and when I said I had never been to the opera, he offered me his extra ticket," he says as he takes a few bills out of his wallet and gives both Dominic and Raymond a generous tip. "Thank you for doing such an _amazing_ job."

"You're welcome," they both reply at the same time.

"Enjoy the opera," Dominic says as Clark opens the front door.

"I will," waving back to them as he closes it behind him.

Dominic looks over at Raymond. "Sounds like love to me."

"I agree," he replies as he turns to greet the next customer.

Clark starts to walk down the street when he hears someone whistling at him. He turns his head briefly and sees two guys standing just outside the barber shop staring at him. He chuckles to himself when he hears one of them say _Wow. Look at that_. A few blocks down he comes across a men's shop. He pauses in front of the window and studies the suits he sees there on display.

_What should I wear tonight? A suit? A tuxedo? _he wonders as he goes inside the shop and begins to look around. _Should I ask Oliver what he's wearing? _he thinks as he takes a look at some of the ties. He finally takes out his phone and starts to type.

_From CK to OQ: I forgot to ask you something about tonight._

_From OQ to CK: What do you want to know?_

_From CK to OQ: What is considered proper attire for the opera?_

_From OQ to CK: As long as you don't wear jeans and a flannel shirt you'll be fine. _

_From CK to OQ: I'm __serious__. I need to have some idea. What are you wearing?_

_From OQ to CK: I haven't decided yet. Sometimes I wear a tuxedo and other times a dark suit._

_From CK to OQ: Oh._

_From OQ to CK: Can I be honest with you?_

_From CK to OQ: Sure._

_From OQ to CK: I want to be surprised._

Clark stares at Oliver's last reply. _He wants to be surprised?_

_From CK to OQ: You do?_

_From OQ to CK: Yeah, I do. It would be like Cinderella, only you would be stepping out of a taxi instead of a horse-drawn carriage._

_From CK to OQ: I figured you'd like Robin Hood because of the archery._

_From OQ to CK: I do like Robin Hood._

_From CK to OQ: I guess I'm just surprised that you're into fairytales. _

_From OQ to CK: I started believing in them again when I met you._

Clark leans back against the wall and sighs as he types out his response.

_From CK to OQ: I…uh…have some errands to run before I have to get ready so…_

_From OQ to CK: I have to go too. I have a board meeting in about twenty minutes and I don't want to be late. I am the boss after all. I'll see you tonight. Bye, Clark._

_From CK to OQ: Bye, Oliver_

Clark slips his phone back into his jacket and walks over to one of the display racks. _I think this is it, _a smile on his face as he removes one of the suits from the rack and brings it over to the fitting room to try on. Once he's happy with how it looks on him, he heads for the shoe department and tries on some shoes. After making his choice, he goes to the register and pays for everything.

As he leaves the shop, he accidently bumps into a pair of nuns. "Be careful," one of them mutters as they continue walking.

"Sorry," he calls out after them. He makes a brief stop at a pharmacy just around the corner from the house to pick up some aftershave. As he's paying for his purchase, he sees his reflection in the storefront window and makes a decision. Once he steps outside, he turns in the opposite direction with one destination in mind.

**Two hours later…**

Shelby greets him at the front door before running upstairs. "Hi. I'm home," he calls out as he closes the door and locks it. "Don't everybody answer at the same time," he says in a slightly sarcastic tone. "Hello!" he calls out again as he hangs the garment bag on the coat rack and the shopping bags on the table.

_Mom must still be with the Red Hats and Dad's probably still playing pinochle, _he thinks as he walks over to the mini-bar and pours some wine into a glass, his fingernails lightly tapping the glass as he walks over to the stereo and puts on some jazzy instrumental Christmas music. He kneels down in front of the fireplace and builds a fire, then gets up and sits down in his father's recliner.

He leans back in the chair and enjoys the quiet as he sips his wine. He looks up at the Christmas tree with its twinkling lights and gets up to take a closer look at one of the ornaments.

_Why did she put this one up? _Clark eyes misting up as his fingers lightly caress the ornament that says _Baby's first Christmas_. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and sits back down in the recliner, his eyes closing as the wine and the warmth of the fire lulls him to sleep.

**An hour later…**

Clark wakes up and glances up at the mantle clock. _I better get ready, _jumping up from the recliner and grabbing the garment bag and shoes before heading upstairs. He goes into the bathroom and starts to put the shower on when he remembers it's not working. _Damn! _he mutters under his breath as he debates what to do.

He finally comes up with a solution and pulls out his phone. "Oliver, it's Clark. I have a slight problem and I thought that you might be able to help me." He goes on to explain the situation.

"That's not a problem," Oliver replies. "Ronny has a key to the apartment. Since he's working tonight, I'll give him a call and tell him that you'll be stopping by for it."

"Thanks, Oliver. I really appreciate it," Clark tells him.

"No problem, Clark," Oliver replies with a smile in his voice. "In fact, Ronny's father-in-law is an _excellent_ plumber. His name is Cosmo Castorini. Do you want me to give him a call?"

Clark stares at the phone with surprise. "Did you just say _Cosmo Castorini?"_

"I did. Is there something wrong?" Oliver asks him in a curious tone.

"No," Clark replies. "We've known Cosmo Castorini for years. In fact, he'll be doing the work for us."

"That certainly sounds like another coincidence to me."

"I don't believe in them," Clark replies.

"You sound like Gibbs on _N.C.I.S._," Oliver replies with a chuckle. "Laters."

"Laters," Clark replies with a laugh as he hangs up and packs a duffle bag with his shaving kit and the new shoes. He's about to leave the bedroom when he realizes that he forgot to pack some fresh underwear.

He walks over to the dresser and opens one of the drawers, grabbing a t-shirt. He stands there for another minute, going back and forth between two different pairs of boxers before finally making a decision and picking one of them up. He stuffs it into the duffle bag, then picks up the garment bag and heads down the stairs…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	11. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

**Cammareri's Bakery**

Clark goes down the steps to the basement of the bakery and opens the door. "Hi," he says to one of the bakers. "I'm looking for a Ronny Cammareri?"

"I'm Ronny," a tall, lean man calls out to him. "You must be Clark," he says as he walks over.

"I am," he replies as he pulls off his glove to shake Ronny's outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," he says with a smile. After letting go of Clark's hand, he reaches into his pants pocket. "Here is the key," holding it out to Clark. "You don't have to worry about returning it because I have a couple extra keys just in case."

"Thanks," Clark says and takes the key from him. "I really appreciate this."

"Any friend of Oliver's is a friend of mine, _although_ I get the feeling that Oliver thinks of you as more than a friend," giving Clark a curious look.

"We're just friends," Clark insists as he puts his gloves back on. "I'm engaged to be married."

"Really," a surprised look on his face. "What's his name?" quirking a brow.

"_Her_ name is Lois," Clark replies in a slightly defensive tone.

"Well she's a lucky woman," Ronny responds in an amused tone.

"She is," Clark says as he heads back to the staircase.

"Clark?"

He stops in his tracks and turns around.

"Oliver is a good man," Ronny says.

"_Excuse_ me?" Clark looking back at him in confusion.

"I saw you leaving the apartment yesterday morning," he goes on to say. Clark's jaw drops and he stares at him in shock as Ronny continues talking. "Not long after that Oliver came into the bakery to pick up some rolls before he went home. He had the same look in his eyes that you had."

"What kind of look?" Clark asks him.

"The look of a man in love," he replies as he walks over and rests his hands on Clark's shoulders. "We consider Oliver family. Please don't break his heart," he says then turns around and walks back to the ovens.

Clark turns around without a word and starts to climb the stairs. "Ronny."

He looks up at the staircase. "Yes, Clark?"

"I would _never_ break his heart. It's the last thing I want to do," he says in an emotional voice without turning around.

Ronny continues to watch until Clark is out of his view. _I believe you, _he smiles to himself as he opens the door to one of the ovens and shoves more bread into it.

_I'm __not__ in love with him, _Clark tells himself as he climbs the stairs to the apartment.

Perry exits the Daily Planet and hails a taxi. "Where to?" the driver asks him as he slides into the back seat.

Perry starts to give him the address of the apartment building he's staying in, but changes his mind when he remembers that he has nothing in the refrigerator. "The Grand Ticino," he answers back.

"Very well," the driver replies as he pulls away from the curb and back into the flow of traffic. As they're stuck at a red light, Perry's phone rings.

"Hello," he answers as the light turns green. "I was just heading for dinner," he tells the caller. "The Grand Ticino," pausing to listen. "Alright, I'll see you there in about ten minutes. Bye," he replies, then hangs up.

**A few minutes later…**

Clark enters the apartment and locks the door behind him, then immediately heads for the bedroom. He's laying the garment bag down on the bed when he spots something on the pillow. He can't help chuckling as he picks up the red Santa's cap along with the note attached.

_Does this give you __any__ ideas? I know it gives me some._

Clark's mind briefly drifts off to the conversation they had the night before, then he gives himself a mental shake as he lays the hat and note back down on the pillow. He takes off his clothes and goes into the bathroom carrying the duffle bag. He puts a plastic cap on his head to protect his newly colored hair before stepping into the shower and pulling the curtain closed.

He leans against the back wall, his eyes closing as the water hits his skin. After a few minutes, he turns around to let the hot water soothe his back muscles. Ronny's words continue to play over and over in his mind.

_I'm not in love with him, _he tells himself again but without the certainty he had before. He opens his eyes and grabs the body wash. As he's soaping up his body, his hand absently moves between his thighs.

The bottle slips out of his grasp and falls to the floor, his head dropping down and his eyes closing as he braces himself with one hand on the shower wall while the other one wraps around his length and slowly begins to squeeze.

_Oliver_, he moans softly over and over as his hand slides up and down, then gradually increasing the speed and pressure of his strokes until he reaches the breaking point and throws his head backwards, climaxing hard. Once his shudders finally ebb away, he rinses himself off and steps out of the shower, taking off the cap and setting it down on the edge of the tub.

He grabs a towel from the rack and wraps it around his waist, then walks over to the sink and takes out the shaving cream and razor from his bag of toiletries and begins to shave. Once he's finished, he pulls out the Old Spice he bought earlier and splashes some on his cheeks and his chin.

"Are you ready to go?" Jimmy calls out to Chloe.

"Just about," she replies back as she comes out of the storage room. "I think that maybe it's time I start my maternity leave. What do you think?" she asks while stretching her back.

"I've been telling you that for the last couple weeks," he replies as he walks over to her. "Working full-time at the Planet and helping out your parents lately has been taking a toll on you. You really need to take it easy for the next few weeks."

"Mr. White has been telling me the same thing," she says with a sigh.

"So stop being stubborn already and just do it," he says while helping her put on her coat.

"Alright," she concedes. "Today was my last day. Okay?"

"Okay," he replies with a smile. "Now let's head on home and relax in front of the fire."

"That sounds good to me," she replies. "While we're relaxing, you can massage my feet because they're killing me."

"Of course," giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

She smiles back before turning towards the counter. "What's that?" he asks as she picks up a bag.

"Mrs. Kent's order," she replies. "Clark was supposed to pick it up today, but he never showed up."

"So you want to drop it off tonight?" he asks.

"No," shaking her head. "I talked to her earlier and she said we could drop it off in the morning."

"Alright. We'll swing by on our way to breakfast," taking the bag from her. "It's not like Clark to forget like that."

"I know," a note of concern in her voice. "I'm a little worried."

"I'm sure there's nothing to be worried about," he replies in a reassuring tone.

"I hope you're right," she answers back as they exit the store. "It's just that he seemed a little…well…weird yesterday. Didn't you notice?"

"He did seem a little distracted," he remarks as he locks the front door. "Didn't he say something about wedding details and all that stuff?"

Chloe thinks about it for a moment. "He did say that," she replies as he flags down a cab. Once they get in and tell the driver where to go, Jimmy pulls out his phone. "Who are you calling?" she asks as they settle back against the worn cushions of the back seat.

"The babysitter," he replies as he types out a message. "I'm just letting her know that we're on our way home and to make sure that our little Gabe is already in his pajamas."

"That's nice," she mumbles softly as she rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes.

Jonathan opens the door to the florist shop and steps inside. "Hi, Jonathan," Nell says as she comes out from the back room to greet him. "How are you?" she asks as she gives him a peck on the cheek.

"I'm doing fine. How about you?" giving her one back.

"The same," she says with a smile. "So what can I do for you?"

"I'm going out with an old friend tonight and I thought I'd get her one of those wrist corsages. Do you remember Mona from high school?"

"Sure I do," Nell replies back. "How is she?"

"She lost her wife about six months ago," he tells her. "Leukemia."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," she says in a solemn tone. "I hadn't heard."

"Today would have been their tenth wedding anniversary," he goes on to say. "They were supposed to go to the opera tonight.

"I remember them doing that a lot," Nell remarks. "So you're her date?" quirking one brow.

"Yes," he replies. "I know a wrist corsage sounds unbelievably old-fashioned but-"

"I don't think it's old-fashioned at all," she replies. "I think it's sweet," she smiles while leading him over to one of the refrigerated display cases and opening one of the doors. "Do you have any idea what color dress she's wearing?"

"No, but she does like to wear pink a lot," he replies.

"Alright," taking a moment to scan the contents of the display case. "This should go with anything," pulling out a box and handing it to him.

He opens the box to get a closer look. "I'll take it," he says after a short pause.

"Excellent choice," giving him a wink as she walks over to the cash register and rings up the purchase. "Will you give Mona my sympathies on the loss of her wife?" she asks as they walk over to the front door.

"Of course I will," he replies and gives her a peck on the cheek.

"Have a great time," waving to him as he opens the door and steps outside.

"Will do," waving back at her as he turns right and walks away.

Clark opens the two small lids of a plastic container and squirts some solution into the two wells before placing the contacts inside them. Once they're ready, he inserts his fingertip and picks up one of them.

_Well, here goes nothing_, he tells himself as he carefully places the contact on his eye, then does the same with the other one. He looks at himself in the mirror and studies his reflection for a moment.

_Not bad_, he decides as he puts everything back in the duffle bag.

He goes back into the bedroom carrying the duffle bag and sets it down on the bed next to the garment bag. After putting on fresh boxers and a t-shirt, he opens the garment bag and takes out the outfit he bought that day. He holds it up and examines it before he starts to get dressed. He removes the lid to the box of shoes and takes them out.

Once he has them on, the only thing left to do is to put on his tie. _Where's Lois when I need her? _he wonders as he continues to fiddle around with it. Once he finally he manages to accomplish the task, he walks over to the floor length mirror on the bedroom door and stands in front of it to study his appearance.

_I look damn good, _still looking at his reflection_. Oliver won't know what hit him, _he thinks with a smile as he puts on his long, black coat and the hat he wears for special occasions.

He picks up his iPhone and looks up phone numbers for taxi companies. Once he's called one of them and made the arrangements, he sets his phone in the 'vibrate' mode. He grabs the key to the apartment and puts it in the change compartment of his billfold so that it doesn't get lost. After putting his wallet in the front pocket of his trousers, he leaves the apartment and makes sure that the door was locked before he walks down the hallway and out of the building.

**At the Met…**

Jonathan is on the other side of the fountain greeting Mona. "So are you ready to go inside?"

"I am," she replies as they begin to make their way to the front entrance.

"I haven't been to the opera in a long time," he says in a wistful as he holds the door open for her. "The last time I was here was with Martha. I think we saw _Carmen_."

She looks at him curiously as they approach the coat room. "So how did Martha take the news about you coming tonight?"

There's a long pause before Jonathan answers. "I didn't tell her."

"You didn't tell her? Why not?" a wondering expression on her face.

"Can we _please_ not talk about it right now?" he asks.

"If that's what you want," she answers back.

"_That's_ what I want," he replies.

"Alright, but can you answer another question I have?"

"What is it?" looking at her curiously.

"Actually it's not so much a question as a wondering," she replies. "I was surprised that you agreed to come tonight. I always thought you didn't like opera. You never came with me before."

"I do like opera. I just never let on that I did. Besides, you were with Janet," he replies as he helps her with her coat.

"You are just _full_ of surprises," she shakes her head in amusement as he hands her coat over to the person in charge. "So how do I look?"

He gives her the once over. "You look beautiful as usual. That shade is lovely on you."

"Thank you," smiling back at him. "You don't look so bad yourself."

"I clean up pretty well," he chuckles as he hands over both their coats to the coat check girl. "I got this for you," opening the box and taking out the wrist corsage.

"Oh, Jonathan," she says softly as he slips it onto her wrist. "It's beautiful. Thank you. It goes perfect with my dress."

"Nell really knows how to coordinate," he says with a smile.

"Nell from high school?" she asks.

"Yes," he answers back. "She owns a florist shop here in Metropolis. She hadn't heard about Janet so she wanted me to express her sympathies to you on your loss."

"That was really nice of her," she says with a wistful smile on her face.

Jonathan extends his arm. "Shall we find our seats?" he smiles at her.

"Yes, lets," linking her arm through his as they start walking through the throng of people.

Martha arrives home and takes off her coat and hat, then heads directly to the kitchen. She's starts to take out some fish for dinner when she notices a note taped to the front of the refrigerator door.

_Martha,_

_I won't be home for dinner. See you tonight when I get back._

_Jonathan_

She crumbles up the note in her fist and throws it into the trash receptacle.

_Oh you'll see me when you get back all right; _she silently fumes as she shoves the fish back inside the refrigerator and slams the door closed. _Why should I slave over a hot stove while he's having a grand old time? If he can go out for dinner, then so can I, _she decides as she grabs her coat and heads back outside to flag down a taxi.

The driver asks her where she wants to go. "I don't feel like cooking tonight so…" thinking for a moment. "Take me to the Grand Ticino."

"Yes, Madam," he replies with a smile as he pulls away from the curb.

Lois tries Clark's number for the umpteenth time. _Where the hell are you, Smallville? Why aren't you picking up? _ she scowls to herself as Clark's voice mail comes on.

She waits for the beep, then leaves a message.

_Clark, it's Lois. I'm coming home sooner than expected. I can't go into details right now because the plane is ready for boarding. I'll come straight to the house because we __really__ need to talk. See you then._

She hangs up and puts her phone away before climbing the airstair to the plane...

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

_**FYI:**_

_Old Spice has a nice, spicy smell to it, hence the name. You'll find overpowering notes of sage and cinnamon when you apply it. As it fades, it leaves a pleasant musk and cedarwood scent._


	12. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

Clark slips into the back seat of the taxi and tells the driver where he needs to go. As the taxi begins to wind its way through the traffic, Clark rests his head against the back seat and thinks about the evening to come.

_Why did I go through all this trouble just for one evening with Oliver? Am I really in love with him? _he wonders as the Met comes into his view.

_That was fast, _he thinks as the taxi pulls up in front and comes to a stop. Clark gives the driver a few bills as a tip, then steps out of the taxi and into the cool late December air. He looks up at the brightly lit building, taking a deep breath and exhaling before he starts walking towards the fountain where he agreed to meet Oliver.

**Five minutes earlier…**

Oliver steps out of the limo and closes the door. He briefly speaks with the driver before taking his leave. He starts thinking about the evening to come as he's walking towards the fountain.

_Why am I so nervous? It's not as if I've never been on a date before, _he tells himself as he arrives at the fountain. He starts to pace back and forth in front of it. _I know why I'm nervous, _stopping in mid-pace. _He's not calling it a date. That's why, _he sighs as he resumes his pacing. _I want it to be a date, _a faraway expression on his face as he remembers their night of passion.

He's so into his reverie that he doesn't see Clark emerging from the taxi.

**The Grand Ticino**

Martha arrives at the Grand Ticino. "Good evening, Mrs. Kent," the host greets her with a smile. "Where's Mr. Kent?" he asks.

"It's just me tonight," she replies.

"You're in luck because I have a table ready for you right now," he says as he leads her to one near the wall. "Is this table all right?"

"Yes," she says as he pulls out the chair for her and she sits down.

He hands her a menu. "Enjoy," he says before walking away.

The head waiter immediately rushes over when he sees her. "Mrs. Kent, you're dining alone tonight?"

"Hello, Bobo. Yes I am. I'd like a martini with no ice, two olives," raising two fingers.

"Very good," he replies with laughter in his voice as he heads in the direction of the bar. While she's reading the menu she hears a woman's raised voice coming from the next table.

"Every time I tell you how I feel, you tell me how you feel. That doesn't seem like much of a response to me."

"Well, it's the only response I have," he responds as he drinks his water.

Meanwhile, Bobo reappears with the martini. "Have you made a decision yet?" he asks as he hands her the drink.

"I'm not sure yet, but I will have a bowl of minestrone in the meantime."

"Very well," walking away again.

She's a little intrigued with the argument taking place between the man and the woman. The woman's back is to her and she's blocking Martha's view of the man. She can't help but think that the man's voice sounds very familiar to her.

"I really do hate it when you take that tone with me. Like you're above it all and isn't it amusing," she replies in a snide tone.

"But it is, isn't it?" he says with amusement.

"Not to me!" she snaps back. "This is my life, no matter how damned comical it may seem to you," throwing down her napkin. "I don't need some man standing around while I roll around in the mud."

"I think you like to roll around in the mud and I don't. That's fair, isn't it? Now why-"

She stands up and flings a glass of water in his face, then grabs her coat off the back of her chair and storms off. He stands up and picks up a napkin. "Sorry about that, folks. She's a very pretty mental patient," he quips as he wipes his face and shirt.

There's some scattered laughter in the restaurant as one of the waiters comes over with a towel. "Don't mind me. Just do me a favor and clear her place. Get rid of all evidence of her and bring me a big glass of vodka."

"Absolutely," the waiter replies in a firm tone and walks away.

Martha's eyes widen when she finally sees his face. He looks over at her with the same expression. "Martha?"

"Perry?"

"What are you doing here?" they both ask at the same time.

"I didn't feel like cooking tonight," Martha says. "You?"

"I decided to come here for dinner when I remembered how empty my refrigerator was, then Patricia called so…" his voice trailing off.

She gives him a smile. "Would you like to join me for dinner?" she asks.

He puts down the napkin. "Are you sure?" She nods yes. "I'd be delighted," he replies. "I really hate eating alone and lately I seem to end up doing just that," smiling as he sits down across from Martha.

**At the same time…**

Clark sees Oliver pacing back and forth in front of the brightly lit fountain. _Looks like I'm not the only one who's a little nervous about tonight, _smiling inwardly as he comes closer. Just then, small jets of water shoot up into the night sky behind Oliver, followed by several larger jets. Clark's eyes follow the columns of water as they rise upwards, then they lower when Oliver looks up at him.

Their eyes lock as Oliver walks towards him. "Hi," Oliver says with a smile as he comes up to him.

"Hi," Clark smiles back.

"You look…handsome," he says after a short pause.

"Thank you. So do you," Clark replies, a slight flush appearing on his cheeks.

Oliver continues to gaze back at Clark. "You're not wearing your glasses."

"I got contacts. What do you think?"

"I love it. I can see your blue eyes _much_ better," he replies as he leans forward.

Clark holds out his hand and shakes his head. "I said I'd come to the opera with you, but that's it."

"Alright," Oliver says as he briefly takes Clark's arm. "Come on, let's go in."

Clark walks besides him as they join the crowd of people making their way to the front door. As they step inside Clark looks up and notices the fancy crystal chandelier in the lobby along with the simply decorated but elegant Christmas tree. "This is _incredible_," he remarks as they walk beneath the chandelier and head up the red-carpeted stairs.

After they hand their tickets to the usher, they make their way to the coat room. Oliver takes his coat off and helps Clark with his. After handing them to the checker, he turns around and sees what Clark was wearing. "Wow. Thank you."

"For what?" Clark looks at him curiously.

"I don't know," he replies in all honesty. "For your beautiful blue eyes. For the way you look tonight. I don't know. It's been too long since I've been to the opera," he adds with a hint of emotion in his voice.

Clark starts to reach out to touch Oliver's arm, but he stops himself. "So where are we sitting?"

"You'll find out in a minute," he replies. "Come on," nodding his head and starts to walk away with Clark right next to him.

The waiter brings over Perry's drink. "So how are you?" Perry asks after he's given the waiter his dinner order.

"I'm okay," Martha replies as another waiter brings over her soup, then leaves.

"_Just_ okay?" he asks in a concerned tone as he takes a sip of his vodka. "You're here without Jonathan. That doesn't sound like things are okay to me."

"Well what about you? That woman wasn't your wife," she counters. "Where's Alice?" she asks as she dips her spoon into her soup and raises it to her mouth.

He leans back in his chair and sets down his glass. "Touché," he replies after a long pause. "Alice and I split a couple months ago."

She sets the spoon down and reaches over to briefly touch his hand. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks," picking up his drink again.

"So you're dating already?" she asks as she resumes eating her soup.

"I've only had two dates and both of them I ended up having water thrown at me," he replies with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Your lady friend made it sound as if it was more serious than just two dates," she replies as she takes another spoonful of soup.

"I know her from work," he replies with a sigh. "She's an intern at the Planet. Ironically this is not the first time she's thrown water at me."

Martha sets down her spoon. "There's an old saying my mother told me. Would you like to hear it?"

"Sure."

"Don't sh!t where you eat."

He's taken aback at first. "I'll remember that," he finally says with a chuckle. "So why are you eating alone?" he asks as the waiter brings over his salad.

"I'm not eating alone," she says without looking up. "I'm eating with you."

"But don't you usually come here with Jonathan?" he asks as he picks up his fork.

"He has plans tonight," she says in a cool tone.

"I see," nodding his head in understanding.

She looks up at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why do men chase women?"

He considers the question. "Nerves?"

"I think it's because they fear death," she replies as she finishes up her soup.

"Maybe," he replies with a shrug of his shoulders.

"So what about you?"

He looks up at her. "What about me?"

"You have a wife, yet you're dating a woman who is obviously too young for you."

"I told you we split up," he responds in a slightly annoyed tone.

"But why did you split up?" she persists. "What could have possibly happened between the two of you after all those years together?"

He sets his fork down next to the now empty plate. "Alice told me that she was tired of being alone all the time. She couldn't take the long hours I spent at the office. She wanted me to retire, but I didn't want to. So she told me that if I didn't, then I should leave."

She pushes the empty soup bowl to the side. "So you decided to leave? Just like that?"

"Martha, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have my job. I love it so much. How could I leave it?"

She shakes her head sadly. "So you chose your job over your marriage. How is that working out for you?" she asks. When he doesn't answer, she continues on. "_That's_ what I thought," picking up her water glass.

"What about Jonathan?" he asks her suddenly

"What about him?" trying to keep her voice level.

"Why aren't you here with him having dinner? Is everything alright with the two of you?"

She sets her glass back down and leans back against her chair. "Well…"

"Well…what?" he asks in a concerned tone.

"I think he may be cheating on me," she replies after a long pause.

He raises his brows in surprise. "What makes you think that?"

"I just have a feeling," she replies. "The other day I smelled perfume on his shirt when I was doing the laundry. It wasn't mine," a sad expression on her face.

"I'm sure there's an explanation," he says in a reassuring tone.

"That's what Clark said," picking up her water glass again.

"Well have you asked him?"

"I would if he were home long enough," she retorts back. "He left me a note saying he wasn't going to be home for dinner tonight."

"So that's why you're here by yourself," a thoughtful expression on his face.

"That's right," taking a sip.

"I wish I knew what to say, but I don't."

"You don't need to say anything. I just appreciate you listening to me," she replies with a small smile.

"Any time you need somebody to talk to, you know where you can find me," he smiles back.

"At the Planet, right?"

"Yeah," he sighs as he resumes finishing his salad.

"Here are our seats," Mona says while looking at the ticket stubs.

"These are pretty good seats," Jonathan remarks as they settle down in their seats. "So have you seen this opera before?" he asks as he opens his program.

"Janet and I saw it at the Met in New York a few years ago," she replies in a wistful tone as she sets her purse down on her lap. "So why don't you tell me about the first one you ever saw?"

He smiles at the memory. "Martha and I were still dating," he begins. "Her father gave Martha a pair of tickets to see _Carmen _for her birthday, so of course that's where we went."

"I love that opera," Mona says as she opens her program and checks out the cast listing. "What did you think of it?"

"It was long but I liked it," he admits. "I guess I'll never love it as much as Martha does, but I go because it means a lot to her."

She nods her head in agreement. "That's what you do when you're in a committed relationship. Sometimes you have to do things that aren't necessarily your cup of tea, but you do them anyway. That's why I went to the wrestling matches with Janet once a month. I just wanted to spend as much time as I could with her, considering how busy we are…were…with our careers."

"I still can't believe that Janet loved wrestling," shaking his head and chuckling at the same time.

"I know," she chuckles lightly before turning wistful. "Would you believe that I still go?"

He turns his head. "You do?"

She nods her head. "Yeah," she says with a sigh. "Sounds crazy doesn't it?"

"No, it doesn't," he replies with a smile while taking her hand and gently squeezing it.

"So you have your own box?" Clark asks as they find their way to the seats right in front of the railing.

"I've had it for years," Oliver replies as they settle into their seats. "I get season tickets every year to all the performances here. I let friends of mine use them when I can't."

"That's a nice thing to do," Clark says as he opens his program. "Don't they also have other performances here besides opera?"

"Yes," Oliver replies. "The season tickets include those too," leaning his head towards Clark. "Is that Old Spice you're wearing?" he whispers softly in Clark's ear.

"It is," he whispers back, feeling a gentle tingle at the warmth of Oliver's breath on his neck. "You like it?"

"Yes," Oliver replies. "It suits you perfectly," pressing his lips lightly behind Clark's ear as the lights begin to go down and the magnificent crystal chandelier rises to the ceiling. "Here we go," he whispers as he leans back in his chair.

_I hope I can get through this evening, _Clark nervously adjusting his collar as the lights go on over the orchestra pit and the conductor takes his place in front of the pit. The audience applauds as he bows to them before he turns to the orchestra and taps his baton on the podium. The audience falls silent as the overture to _La Boheme_ begins to play…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	13. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

"I enjoyed having dinner with you," Perry says while helping Martha with her coat.

"So did I," she smiles back as she puts on her hat and gloves.

"You know, the evening doesn't have to end."

She looks up at him. "_Oh_, Perry," she says with laughter in her voice. "I'm very flattered, but I still love Jonathan. I would never cheat on him."

He stares back at her with surprise. "I wasn't thinking about _that_, Martha."

"Oh," a sheepish expression on her face. "Pardon me. I guess I misunderstood."

"It's alright," he replies. "I understand why you might have thought that."

"Then what _did_ you mean?" she asks in a curious tone.

"I was thinking that I could walk you back home because it's already dark unless you were going to take a cab instead."

"I could use the fresh air," she says after thinking about it for a moment.

"Shall we?" extending his arm.

"We shall," she nods her head and takes his arm.

The lights come back on and the audience begins to applaud.

"So what do you think of the opera so far?" Oliver asks as they make their way through the throng of people.

"I really like it," Clark replies as they enter the lobby. "My barbers were right."

"Barbers?

"Yeah," Clark replies. "Raymond cut my hair and Dominic colored it."

"So what were they right about?" Oliver asks.

"That there's a difference between hearing the music on a recording and hearing it live. They didn't say it in those words exactly, but that was the jist of it."

"They're both right," Oliver says with a smile. "By the way, I _did_ notice the change in your hair. Why did you take out the gray?"

"I don't know," Clark shrugs his shoulders. "I suppose I wanted to try something different," looking up at him. "You don't like it," a sorrowful expression on his face.

"I didn't say that so don't put words in my mouth," Oliver gently chides him. "I was just curious, that's all," he says. "They both did an excellent job," he remarks as his hand reaches out. "So soft," he mutters as his fingers gently thread through Clark's head. "Just so you know," lowering his head. "I find you _very_ attractive, gray or no gray," pressing his lips briefly against Clark's ear before straightening up. "So what would you like to drink?" tilting his head in the direction of the bar.

"I'll have whatever you're having," Clark replies.

"Two glasses of champagne coming up," flashing Clark a wink as he heads towards the bar.

"I'll head on to the men's room while you get the champagne," Clark calls out after him.

Oliver stops and turns around. "I'll meet you over there," Oliver as he points to a spot near the staircase.

"Alright," Clark agrees, turning around and walking away. Once he's out of Oliver's sight, he leans back against a wall with a sigh. _I'm in trouble alright, _he thinks to himself before turning around and entering the men's room.

_He's putty in my hands, _Oliver grins inwardly as he finally makes his way up to the bar. "Two glasses of champagne, please."

At the same time, Jonathan walks up and stands next to him. "Canadian Club and ginger ale and Dubonnet on the rocks, please," he tells the second bartender.

They barely glance at each other as they wait for their drinks. "Here you go," the bartender handing Oliver his drinks.

"Thank you," Oliver says just as he spots Clark making his way to the staircase. He makes his way through the crowd of people. "Here you go," handing Clark one of the glasses.

"Thank you," says Clark as he takes the glass from him. "That one is Chagall," pointing to one of the huge paintings on the wall.

"That's right," Oliver replies. "As you can see, he was a great artist."

"I've seen his work before. It's always looked gaudy to me," Clark remarks.

"He was having some fun."

"They get _some_ turnout for this stuff," Clark says while sipping his champagne.

"It's the best thing there is," Oliver says with a smile as they continue to study the painting.

"I like parts of it, but some of it I just don't get," Clark shrugs his shoulders.

"Art _is_ subjective after all. It's all in the eyes of the beholder," Oliver says. "You can have ten people look at a piece of art and end up with ten different opinions."

"That's true," Clark agrees with him as they finish up their drinks. "Come on, let's go back in," he says when the lights flicker two times.

"Yes, _Sir_," Oliver says in a teasing tone as they give their glasses to a passing waiter before heading back inside.

"Would you believe that the last time I was in your house was over five years ago?" Perry remarks as they approach the corner brownstone.

"I can't believe that," Martha says as they stop in front of the stairs. "Has it really been five years?"

"That's right," shrugging his shoulders.

"Well I'm going to do something about that. How about you come over for dinner one night?"

"I'd like that," he smiles at her as she opens her purse.

"One one condition."

He looks at her curiously. "Which is?"

"You bring Alice," she replies as she fishes out her keys and starts to climb the stairs.

He shakes his head. "I seem to recall telling you that we're separated."

She stops midway and turns to face him. "I do recall that," she replies as she goes back down the stairs and walks over to him.

"Then why would you give me that condition?" he asks.

"Because I know that you still love her and miss her, that's why. "You _know_ what you need to do for her to take you back. Just do it."

"I can't just retire," he insists.

"You _can_ work less hours," she counters. "You could delegate some of your lesser responsibilities to people you trust _implicitly_."

He stares back at her with brows raised. "Are you suggesting what I _think_ you're suggesting?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," she replies with a straight face.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," his eyes narrowing.

She just shrugs her shoulders. "It's ultimately your decision," she says while giving him a peck on the cheek before walking back up the staircase and inserting the key into the lock. After opening the door, she turns around.

"I know you'll do the right thing," she adds. "Merry Christmas, Perry," she smiles back at him as she enters the house and closes the door behind her.

Perry just stands on the corner with his hands in his coat pocket and waits until he sees a light go on in the house. When he sees her in front of the living room window waving to him, he waves back before turning around and walking away.

"Still can't get through to Clark?" he asks as Lois angrily shoves her phone back into her pocket.

"What do _you_ think?" she snaps back at him.

"No need to take it out on me," he remarks without looking up from his iPad.

She exhales noisily and lays her head back against the headrest. "It's not like him to _not_ answer his phone. I'm starting to get a little worried."

"He's a big boy," he says in a reassuring tone. "He can take care of himself."

"I know that," she sighs again. "It's just that it's not going to be an easy conversation," turning her head.

He looks up and sees the anxious look on her face and puts the iPad down on the empty seat to his left. "I know," taking her hand.

"I just hope that he doesn't take it too hard," she replies back. "He wanted it as much as I did."

"From what you've already told me about Clark, he'll be fine," he tells her as she continues to bite down on her lower lip. "You're going to draw blood if you keep doing that," he quips as he lowers his lips and presses them lightly against hers. "There. How does that feel?"

She looks up at him and smiles. "_Much_ better," her hand reaching out to stroke his face.

Clark watches, enraptured by the scene unfolding on the stage. He tries to blink the tears away as Mimi sings her heartbreaking aria of farewell to Rudolph while they stand in the lightly falling snow. He glances over at Oliver and notices the intense look on his face as he stares at the stage. He turns his head back just as a single tear slowly begins to slide down his cheek.

Oliver's hand rests on Clark's knee for a moment before moving it up his thigh to wrap his fingers around Clark's hand. He raises their joined hands and presses his lips against Clark's fingers without taking his eyes off the performers. Clark looks over just as Oliver's eyes finally move to Clark's face, their eyes glistening as they gaze at each other.

**A short time later…**

Clark dabs his eyes with a handkerchief as Oliver hands the check to the coat check person. "That was just…awful," he says in an emotional voice as he blows his nose and returns the handkerchief to his jacket pocket.

"Awful?" Oliver looks at him with confusion.

"Beautiful. Sad. She died!"

"Yes," Oliver sighs as the checker hands him their coats.

"I couldn't believe it! I didn't think she was going to die. I knew she was sick…"

"She had TB," Oliver replies as he assists Clark with his coat.

"I know. She was coughing her brains out and still she had to keep singing-" his jaw suddenly dropping at the sight before him.

Oliver looks up at him. "Something wrong, Clark?" he asks as he puts on his coat, turning to see what Clark was staring at.

Clark doesn't register the fact that Oliver said anything. "Dad?"

Jonathan looks up while helping Mona put on her coat and sees Oliver and Clark standing there. "Clark?"

The four of them stare at each other for a long moment. "Wait for me by the doors, Mona," he tells her.

She nods her head and leaves. "Mona?" Clark looks at his father with narrowed eyes as soon as she's gone, then turns to Oliver. "Excuse us for a moment," he says as he grabs his father's arm and steers him a short distance away.

Jonathan puts on his hat and adjusts the scarf around his neck. "What happened to your glasses?"

"I got contacts. What are you doing here?" he asks again.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Jonathan counters back.

"It's not what you think," Jonathan replies.

"What _do_ I think?" Clark glares back at his father.

"This is not the right time or place to be having this discussion," Jonathan responds in a cool tone. "So why are _you _here with another man when you're supposed to be engaged to be married?"

"You're _already_ married so don't you dare stand there and judge _me_," Clark retorts back in an angry tone.

"You're my son. I won't have you acting like a _figlio di puttana_."

"_Now_ you remember your Italian?" Clark says incredulously.

"Alright," says Jonathan. "I didn't see you here."

"I don't know if I saw you here or what," Clark responds back.

Jonathan briefly tips his hat before taking his leave

Clark just stands there and watches his father walk away. He points to the retreating forms of his father and Mona when Oliver comes over to stand next to him. "That woman wasn't my mother, okay?" shaking his head sadly.

"I know," Oliver says while gently rubbing Clark's lower arm. "Let's get out of here and I'll buy you a drink."

"I guess," Clark says with a sigh as they walk over to the front entrance and exit the building.

"You better straighten things out with Clark," Mona tells Jonathan as he walks her to her door.

"I'll talk to him in the morning," he tells her as she takes out her keys.

"Good," she says as she opens the door. "I don't want him thinking that I'm the 'other' woman," she says as she steps inside and turns around.

"Okay," he says and gives her a brief hug and a kiss. "In case I didn't tell you, I had a really nice time tonight."

"I did too," she smiles back. "Thank you for…well…everything."

"There's no need to thank me. I was more than happy to be your escort," flashing her a wink as he turns and walks down the stairs, stopping at the bottom and turning back around to make sure that she's in the house. He waves back at her before getting back into his car and driving away.

Perry climbs the stairs and briefly hesitates, then takes a deep breath and exhaling before he finally presses the doorbell. A moment later, the door opens. "Perry?" her eyes widening. "What are you doing here?"

He takes a few steps forward until he's standing directly in front of her. "I love you and I miss you and I want to come home."

She shakes her head sadly. "I love and miss you too, but we can't go back to the way things were before."

"I know," he replies. "I've been thinking about it and while I'm not yet ready to retire, I do have a counter offer for you."

"Oh?" arching a brow.

"I've decided to make some changes in my work schedule."

"What kind of changes?" she asks out of curiosity.

"I'll work a regular nine to five schedule from Monday to Friday with Saturday _and_ Sundays off. No overtime _unless_ it's absolutely necessary."

Her jaw drops as he continues talking. "I've also decided to delegate some of my lesser responsibilities to Clark and Lois."

"Really?" her eyes beginning to glisten a little.

"Really," taking her hands in his. "I could also be persuaded to leave work early or take an additional day off from time to time," he adds with a wiggle of his brows. "So…what do you think of my offer?"

She takes a moment to wipe her eyes on her sleeve before leaning forward to press her lips against his. "Does _that_ answer your question?" she asks after pulling away.

"It sure does," he smiles as they kiss again.

"Welcome home, honey," taking his hand and leading him into the house, the door closing behind them.

**The Boerum Café**

The sound of _Moonglow _ plays in the background while Clark and Oliver sit at the bar. Clark just sits there nursing his drink and staring straight ahead while Oliver finishes his off. As the bartender takes Oliver's empty glass, Oliver turns to Clark. "So what do you want to do now?" he asks him.

"I just want to get my stuff from the apartment and go home," says Clark as he gets up from the stool and walks towards the front door.

Oliver puts a couple of bills on the bar. "Merry Christmas, Al," Oliver says to the bartender as he walks away.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Ollie," he smiles back as they exit the bar and get into Oliver's limo. Clark stares morosely out the window without saying anything until the car pulls up to the curb just outside the bakery.

"I'll be right back," he mutters without looking at Oliver as he gets out and goes into the building. He comes back out about ten minutes later with the duffel bag that contains the empty garment bag folded neatly inside it. Oliver lowers the window when Clark lightly taps on the glass. "I think I'll walk home from here," Clark tells him.

Oliver opens the door and gets out. "I'm not letting you walk home alone, especially considering the emotional state you're in right now," he declares as he snatches the bag out of Clark's hand and tosses it on the seat opposite from where he was sitting.

"But…" Clark starts to say.

Oliver puts his finger over Clark's mouth. "No," shaking his head. "If you insist on walking home, then _I_ insist on being your escort – and _that's_ final," he declares.

"_Fine,"_ Clark sighs and begins to walk.

Oliver closes the door and walks around to the driver's side. The chauffer lowers the window. "Yes, Mr. Queen?" he asks.

Oliver leans forward through the window and whispers something in his ear. "Yes, Sir," turning his head and pulling away from the curb after Oliver takes a few steps backwards.

Oliver half-runs to catch up with Clark. "He'll meet me at home," Oliver tells him, who doesn't say a word as they start walking down the street side by side in silence, the light of the full moon shining down on them…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

_**FYI:**_

In the movie, Cosmo tells Loretta not to act like a _puttana_, which means _whore_ in Italian. Of course in my story I can't have Jonathan calling Clark one because he's a man, so I used _figlio di puttana_, which means _son of a bitch_.


	14. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

**Metropolis International Airport**

"Are you sure you don't need me there when you tell Clark?" he asks as they get off the plane and walk over to his private limo.

"I'm sure," she replies as the chauffer opens the door.

He kisses her before climbing into the back seat and closing the door. Just as she's about to walk away, the window lowers. "I could still give you a ride," he says while sticking his head through the open window.

She smiles back and leans forward to kiss him softly on the lips. "I appreciate the offer, but I have some things to take care of at my apartment afterwards so…: her voice trailing off as she straightens up.

"Alright," he replies as the window slowly rises.

"I'll call you later," waving back at him as the limo slowly drives away.

She picks up her two suitcases and heads for the main terminal. After having her bags examined, she hails a cab and gets inside. "Where to?" the cab driver asks as she settles into the back seat.

"Nineteen Cranberry Street," she replies.

The driver nods and immediately pulls from the curb and into the flow of the traffic, slowly making its way out of the airport.

Mona changes into the red silk nightgown that was a present from her wife on their last Valentine's Day together, then goes into the kitchen and takes out a bottle of champagne that was chilling in the refrigerator.

After pouring herself a glass, she lowers the lights and proceeds to light a few candles. She sits down on the couch and settles back against the cushions before turning on the television. She smiles as she watches the two of them recite their vows, tears streaming down her face as they're finally pronounced married. She raises her glass of champagne to the screen.

"Happy Anniversary, my love," she whispers in a voice full of emotion before taking a sip and going back to the beginning to watch it again, the only other sound in the room coming from the tinkling of the birds and stars bracelet still on her wrist…

**A short time later…**

The cab pulls up to the curb outside the house. After giving the driver a generous tip, Lois gets out of the cab, grabbing her luggage and heading for the front door. She takes a deep breath and exhales noisily before pressing the doorbell. She could hear _It must be him_ playing in the background as well as the footsteps that were approaching. The chain is removed and the door slowly opens. "Lois?"

"Hi, Mrs. K. I'm sorry to be stopping by so late. I've been trying to get in touch with Clark but he's not answering his phone and…"

"Are you moving in?" Martha interrupts with a tiny smirk on her face while eyeing the two suitcases Lois was carrying.

"No," Lois shakes her head. "I came straight from the airport."

"Come on in," Martha tells her, opening the door wider.

"Thanks," Lois says as she goes past her, setting her suitcases next to the coat rack before entering the living room. "Can you wake up Clark? I really need to talk to him about something."

"He's not home yet," Martha replies as she walks over to the bar. Why don't you take off your coat and sit down. I'll make us a couple of drinks. I want to talk to you," she continues as she makes the drinks.

"Alright," Lois says as she sits down on Jonathan's recliner. "Here you go," handing Lois one of the drinks.

"Thanks," she says as Martha turns off the stereo and sits down on the couch.

"So where is Clark anyway?" Lois asks as she sips her drink. "He doesn't usually go out on Friday nights," setting her drink down on the side table.

"He's out but I don't know where," Martha shrugs her shoulders.

"I see," Lois nods her head. For a long moment there's nothing said between them. Finally Lois blurts out, "I'm really uncomfortable with uncomfortable silences."

"Me too," Martha replies with a smile.

"So you really don't know where he is?"

"I really don't," Martha says while sitting back against the couch cushions. "So…" leaning forward to place her empty glass on the coffee table. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in Washington?"

"That's one of the things I came to talk to Clark about," Lois replies. "There's been a miracle."

Martha's eyebrows rise and she stares back at Lois. "A miracle? Well, that's news. Are you saying that your father's recovered?"

"As it turns out, the stroke wasn't as bad as the doctors predicted. I was able to have him transported to Met Gen for the rest of his recovery," Lois tells Martha.

"That's incredible," Martha says while shaking her head in astonishment. "I get the feeling that there's more to your coming back early than just about your father."

"Yeah, but that's something I need to speak privately with Clark about if you don't mind," Lois replies. "I hope you understand."

Martha reaches over to take her hand. "Of course I do," she says with a smile.

"Whew," a sigh of relief escaping her mouth. "So you said there was something you wanted to talk to _me_ about?" looking up at Martha.

"Yes," Martha says. "I have a question that I want to ask you and I want you to tell me the truth if you can."

"Of course," Lois says as she reaches over to briefly touch Martha's hand. "What is it?"

Martha lets go of Lois' hand and straightens up. "Why do men chase women?"

There's a thoughtful expression on her face as she ponders the question. "There is the Bible story about when God took a rib from Adam and created Eve. Maybe men chase women to get the rib back. When God took the rib, he left a hole there, a place where there used to be something and the women have that. Maybe a man isn't complete as a man without a woman."

"But why would a man need more than one woman?" Martha persists.

Lois just shakes her head. "I really don't know. Maybe because he fears death?"

"That's it!" Martha exclaims in an excited tone. "That's the reason!"

"But I really don't know," Lois says with a confused look on her face.

"No. That's it," leaning forward to rest her hands on Lois' shoulders. "Thank you. _Thank_ you for answering my question," she smiles at her before sitting back down.

They both look up when they hear the sound of the front door slamming. "Is that you, Clark?" Martha asks.

"No," Jonathan replies as he walks over to the living room entranceway. "Hi," looking Lois over with narrowed eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Kent," she replies in a level tone as she stands up while Martha remains sitting.

"Where have you been?" Martha asks him.

"I don't know, Martha," he replies in a slightly exasperated tone. "I don't know where I've been, and I don't know where I'm going," turning to look at Lois. "You should have your eyes opened, you know."

"Huh?" looking at him with confusion. "I _do_ have my eyes open."

"You do, huh?" sounding leery. "Stick around. Don't go on any long trips."

"I don't know what you mean," still confused.

"I know you don't and that's the point," gesturing with his hand across his chest. "I'll say no more."

"You haven't said _anything_," Lois replies as she starts to get annoyed.

"And that's how much I'm saying," starting to turn towards the stairs.

"Jonathan?"

He turns around. "What?"

"I just want you to know that no matter what you do, you're going to die. Just like everybody else."

"Thank you, Martha," he replies with an odd smile on his face.

"You're welcome," she replies with a straight face.

"I'm going to bed now," heading for the stairs.

"I think I better go," Lois says as she stands up.

"Good!" he yells out from the top of the stairs.

Martha shakes her head with amusement. "Like I told Clark, he does like you. He just has a hard time showing it," she says as she walks Lois over to the front door.

"He doesn't like me," Lois replies with a shake of her head. "He hasn't liked me ever since I wrote that article criticizing one of his policies when he was still the Governor."

"He's a stubborn man," Martha replies as she opens the door wide for her.

"Don't I know it," Lois rolls her eyes. "So you _really_ don't know when he'll be home?"

"I haven't a clue," shaking her head as Lois picks up her suitcases. "But thank you for answering my question."

"You don't need to thank me," she replies with a smile before adding, "Can you tell him that I'll stop by sometime tomorrow? We really need to talk."

"Of course I'll tell him," Martha replies before giving Lois a kiss on the cheek. "In fact, why don't you come by for breakfast?" watching as Lois steps outside. "You know what time."

"I'd like that," Lois says with a smile. "See you then," she calls out as she hails a cab and climbs inside.

Martha watches until the cab takes off. _It feels like snow, _shivering slightly as she goes back inside and locks the door behind her.

"It's cold," Clark finally says after they've been walking for a little while.

"Yeah. It smells like snow," Oliver replies. "Wouldn't it be nice if we had a white Christmas?" he asks as they continue to walk down the street.

"I was thinking that earlier," Clark answers back before lapsing into silence again for a few minutes.

"You know," speaking up again. "My mother guessed that my father was seeing somebody. That Mona-I mean, I'd love to say that that she looked like some piece of cheap goods, but she really didn't. She looked like the kind of woman that my mother would be friends with. How sick am I for thinking that?" finally looking over at Oliver. "What?" looking curiously at him when he notices the thoughtful expression on his face.

"Well…" he hesitates for a moment before he answers. "She looked familiar to me."

"Mona?" Clark asks, sounding surprised.

"Yeah," Oliver replies with a nod of his head. "It's on the tip of my tongue…" his eyebrows rising as he suddenly pulls out his iPhone.

"What are you doing?" Clark asks.

"I secretly took her picture earlier because I couldn't shake the feeling that I've seen her before," Oliver replies without looking up while swiping through screen after screen until he finally stops. "Isn't this her?" he asks while holding his phone out.

Clark takes the phone and studies the picture, his eyes widening. "Yes!" he exclaims and looks up at him. "How did you-"

"Remember what I said when we first met about what access I have to the latest in cutting edge technology?" quirking a brow.

"I remember," Clark replies.

"It also includes having the latest in facial recognition software at my disposal," he replies with a twinkle in his eyes.

Clark just shakes his head in astonishment as he reads the caption beneath the picture.

"I think it's safe to say that your father is _not_ cheating on your mother," Oliver says while looking over Clark's shoulder. "They were the first same-sex couple to legally marry in the state of Kansas. Your father was Governor at the time and he was the one who officiated at their wedding. Isn't her wife beautiful?" smiling at the picture of Mona with Janet. "What I don't understand is why your father was the one escorting her to the opera tonight and not her wife."

"I don't know," Clark says with a sigh as he hands the phone back to him.

"What's the matter now?" Oliver asks as he slips the phone into his coat pocket. "I thought you'd be happy."

"How can you ask me that?" Clark stops in his tracks and turns around to face him.

"You're making me feel guilty again," Oliver says in response.

"You are guilty," Clark replies. "_I'm_ guilty."

"Of what?" giving Clark a questioning look. Only God can point the finger, Clark."

"I just know what I know," he replies with a shrug.

"And what do you know?" Oliver asks as they start walking again. You told me my life? Well let me tell you yours. I'm a wolf? You run to the wolf but that doesn't make you a lamb," stopping again. "You're gonna marry Lois. Why on earth would you want to sell your life short?" stepping closer to him. "Playing it safe is just about the most dangerous thing a man like you could do. Why didn't you continue to wait for the right man?"

"Because he never came," Clark's voice starting to rise.

"I'm here."

Clark fixes his eyes on Oliver's. "You're late," he states with finality.

Before he could respond, Clark turns around and looks up at the building in front of him. "This isn't my home," turning back around.

"This is where I live. My penthouse is on the top floor," Oliver replies.

"So this is where we were going," Clark stares back at him with an irritated expression on his face. "You know, we had a deal," poking his finger on Oliver's chest. "If I came with you to the opera you'd leave me alone forever, and I came _with_ you. Now I'm gonna marry Lois and you're gonna leave me alone forever, right?"

Oliver still doesn't respond so he continues on.

"A person can see where they've messed up in their life, and they can change the way they do things, and they can even change their luck. So maybe…maybe my nature does draw me to you, but that doesn't mean I have to go with it. I can take hold of myself and I can say yes to some things and no to other things that are gonna ruin everything. I can do that. Otherwise, you know what is this stupid life that God gave us?"

He stops again. "Oliver? Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah," he responds at last. "Everything seems like nothing to me now. I guess I just want you in my bed again."

Clark shakes his head sadly. "No, Oliver."

"Yes," Oliver replies firmly. "The past and future is a joke to me now. I see that they're nothing. I see they're not here. The only thing that's here is you and me."

"No," Clark insists insistently. "I want to go home."

"No," Oliver grabs his arm.

"I'm going home," turning to face him. "I'm freezing to death," his voice quivering slightly.

"Come upstairs," he gives Clark a pleading look.

"Oliver, _please_," his eyes beginning to mist up as he pulls his arm away from Oliver's grasp.

"Clark, I love you. Not like they told you love is. I didn't know this either. Love doesn't make things nice. It ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren't here to make things perfect."

He stops when a snowflake drifts down between them. "Snowflakes are perfect," he goes on. "The _stars_ are perfect. The _moon_ is perfect," gazing up at the night sky for a moment before looking back at Clark. "Not us. We are here to ruin ourselves and break our hearts and love the wrong people…and die!"

The tears are freely rolling down Clark's face. "Now, I want you to come upstairs with me and get…get in my bed!" gesturing to the front entrance before turning back around and holding out his left hand.

"Come on," he says in a soft voice.

Clark stares at the gloved hand in front of him as the snowflakes continue to drift down around them. Finally his hand slowly reaches out and his fingers wrap around Oliver's.

No more words are spoken as Oliver leads Clark into the building. They walk through the lobby until they reach Oliver's private elevator, his fingers still wrapped around Oliver's hand as the doors slowly close behind them…


	15. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

"Well, this is my home," Oliver says at last as the elevator doors open onto the penthouse floor.

Clark's hand slips out of Oliver's as he steps out of the elevator. "Wow," he mutters as his eyes take in everything. "This is _incredible_," turning to look back at him. "How long have you lived here?" he asks as they both hang up their coats on the rack in the foyer.

"I've lived here ever since I came back from the island," he replies. "Come on, let me show you something," taking Clark's hand again and leading him through the living room towards the balcony doors.

"_What_ a view," Clark whispers in awe as they step outside. "I wish I had my telescope but it's back at the farm," he says wistfully as they walk up to the railing.

"You like astronomy?" Oliver asks as they stand there and look up at the stars.

"I _love_ astronomy," he replies. "There's the _Big Dipper_, or _Big Bear_," pointing to one of the constellations.

Oliver reaches over to take his arm with one hand, resting his other hand on Clarks. "I'm sure you know what that one is," pointing towards another constellation.

"That one is called _Cassiopeia_, or _Queen_," Clark replies.

"That's right," his lips close to Clark's ear. "It was named after the vain queen in Greek mythology of the same name."

"Mmm," Clark sighs as their hands caress each others. They stand there for a few minutes in the cold evening air before Oliver finally breaks the silence.

"Let's go inside," his warm breath on Clark's neck.

Clark cranes his neck and gazes up into Oliver's eyes. "Yes," he whispers as their lips meet up in a tender kiss. After a few more of them, they reluctantly pull their lips away from each other's and go back inside.

"Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I build us a fire," Oliver says after he locks the balcony doors and dims the lights.

"Alright," Clark replies as he heads over to the living room area. "You don't mind if I take off my shoes do you?" he asks as he sits down on the sofa.

"As long as that's _all_ you take off," Oliver says as he takes off his own shoes and socks before kneeling down in front of the fireplace and starting to arrange the wood. "I'll take care of the rest," briefly craning his head and winking at Clark before returning to the task at hand.

Oliver's last line gives Clark a wonderful tingle through his body as he takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of the couch before taking off his own shoes and socks.

"That feels _sooo_ much better," he says as he takes off his tie and loosens the collar of his shirt.

_That's __nothing__ compared to how I'll make you feel by the end of the night, _Oliver smiles inwardly as he sets the match to the crumpled up pieces of paper he wedged between the logs and twigs. "Now _that's_ a fire," he declares with a grin as the fireplace roars to life.

"You don't have a gas jet?" Clark asks as Oliver stands up.

"Nope," Oliver shakes his head. "I like to build a fire from scratch."

"Is that because you were stranded on the island?"

"That never really occurred to me, but you're probably right," smiling back at him. "So would you like something to drink?"

Clark thinks about it for a moment. "I'll have a glass of red wine if you have any."

"Two glasses of red coming up," Oliver says as he head for the kitchen nearby. "So how long have you been interested in astronomy?" he calls out as he opens a bottle of wine.

"Since I was a kid and living on the farm," Clark replies. "So let me ask _you_ a question," he says as Oliver comes back with the two glasses and hands him one.

"Sure," Oliver says as he walks over to the stereo and puts on some soft jazz before sitting down. "What do you want to know?"

"I meant to ask you this question during the interview, but it slipped my mind," he begins. "What made you decide to co-own a bakery?" he asks while taking a sip.

"Because I love jelly donuts," Oliver replies with laughter in his voice.

Clark cocks his head. "Come on," he scoffs. "Seriously, why did you?"

Oliver takes another sip. "Okay, okay," he says just before setting the glass down on the coffee table. "I was partially kidding. I do love jelly donuts, but I _love_ bread more. When I heard that Cammareri's was having financial trouble, I just had to help. _Needed_ to help," he adds.

"That's a really sweet thing to do," gazing back at him as he takes another sip. "Is that something that you do a lot?"

"Yeah," he nods back. "I don't go out of my way to advertise it, but inevitably it comes out sooner or later."

"Well if that's your policy, then you should probably have a conversation with the guy who was behind the desk in the reception area of your headquarters," Clark tells him. "He didn't hesitate to tell me where you were. He even told me what days you're at the bakery."

"Hmm," a thoughtful expression on Oliver's face. "Alright. I'll talk to him, but I'll give him a pass this time because he's new and it's Christmas."

"I think that's a wise decision," Clark replies as he takes another sip. "This wine is delicious. Where did you get it?" he asks as he finishes up the last of it and sets the glass down on the table.

"It was a Christmas present from a friend of mine who just recently came back from Italy," he replies.

Clark smiles as he leans back and rests his head on the back of the sofa. "I really like this sofa," he remarks. "It's not only comfortable but it's also high enough in the back that my head doesn't hang over it."

"I was thinking of you when I bought it."

Clark arches a brow. "Are you saying that you bought this because of _me?"_ looking back at Oliver with the sweetest expression on his face.

"Well, _duh_," rolling his eyes. He looks back at Clark who stares back at him oddly. "What?_"_

Clark crosses his arms against his chest and turns away from Oliver.

Oliver scoots over until he was sitting right next to him. "I was only kidding about the _duh_," resting his hands on Clark's shoulders.

"Didn't sound like it to me."

"Come on, where's your sense of humor?" Oliver asks as he gently massages Clark's shoulders.

"I have a damn good sense of humor, but that wasn't funny," Clark retorts but still keeping his head turned away.

Oliver just sighs as he continues with the massage. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. That's the last thing I would ever want to do," pressing his lips against Clark's neck. "To be honest, I bought this sofa last week. I don't even know why because I didn't need a new one," slowly working his way down Clark's neck. "I must have been thinking of you when I bought it, even though I hadn't met you yet."

Clark eyes drift shut, his head falling backwards and to the side as Oliver's mouth gently nips at his collar bone. "You make it difficult for me to stay mad at you," he manages to get out.

"Then that means that my evil plan is working," Oliver murmurs softly as his hands move down to Clarks waist and pulls his shirt out of his pants.

"Well you're still a bad boy and you _must_ be punished," he whispers while Oliver's hands slip inside his shirt and begin to glide up his chest.

"I wouldn't mind being punished by _you_," eliciting a groan out of Clark when his fingers surround his nipples. "What would you do to me?" he whispers as he continues fondling them. "Would you tie me up and have your wicked way with me?"

"Possibly," Clark whispers back.

"Or perhaps spank me like you talked about during our IM chat?"

"I'll have to give it some serious thought," Clark says as he pulls away from Oliver and turns to face him.

"Oh?" quirking one eyebrow back at him.

"_Oh_, yeah," Clark nods his head. "You won't know when, but I _will_ make you pay for your badness," he replies as he slowly begins to unbutton his shirt. Soft sighs comes out of Oliver as Clark presses his lips against the smooth golden-colored skin as it's revealed with each button he unfastens. Once he's done, he pushes the shirt off Oliver's shoulders then pulls it off completely. "Now _that's_ more like it," a twinkling in his eyes as he moves his palms lightly over Oliver's bare chest.

"My turn," Oliver replies as he unbuttons Clark's shirt and tosses it alongside his own shirt before grabbing Clark by the waist and pulling him onto his lap so that he was straddling him.

They both gasp out as their groins grind together, their naked chests rubbing against each other's and their lips crashing together. Clark's arms wrap around Oliver's back while Oliver's hands slip inside the back of his pants to cup his ass cheeks and pull him closer. They both groan with pleasure as the kissing intensifies, their tongues dueling inside each other's mouths for dominance.

"I need more," Oliver mumbles between kisses. "_Much_ more."

"Me too," Clark replies as his hand moves between them.

"Guh," Oliver groans as Clark strokes the front of his pants.

"Is this what you had in mind?"

"Close," Oliver whispers.

"Tell me what you want."

"I want you inside me," he gasps out.

Clark stops what he was doing and pulls away to look Oliver in the eye. "Are you sure?" his eyes widening.

"I'm sure," Oliver replies.

"Because you've already told me about needing to be the one in control," Clark looks down at him.

Oliver gazes up at him and cups his face in his hands. "I also said I would be willing to lose that control with the right person." When Clark doesn't immediately respond, he continues talking.

"Clark?" looking up at him with furrowed brows and a confused expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says at last.

"Then why haven't you responded to what I just said?"

Clark hesitates before answering. "It's just that…well…there's a lot of things I've never done with a man before and that happens to be one of them," he finally admits. "I guess I'm a little nervous about doing it for the first time."

"You had me worried there for a moment," Oliver breathes a sigh of relief. "Look, Clark, I'm a patient man," smiling up at him. "I'll understand if you're not ready for it yet," his fingers moving to stroke Clark's hair.

Clark looks at him curiously. "So you would be okay if I didn't…"

"Yes," Oliver interrupts him with a kiss.

Clark looks at him for a long moment, then pulls away and gets off his lap. "Where are you going?" he asks as Clark walks around the coffee table and stands in front of the fireplace.

"Come here."

Oliver stands up and walks over to him. "What?" he asks.

Clark doesn't reply but instead pulls down the zipper to Oliver's pants, pushing the pants off Oliver's waist until they slide down his legs. "Well, well," he says as he picks the pants up off the floor and tosses them onto the couch. "All your talk about going commando. _What_ a disappointment," shaking his head as he unzips his own pants. "You really do love the color green don't you?" arching a brow as his pants fall down to the floor.

"Well, well yourself," Oliver replies with a smirk as he picks up Clark's pants and tosses them on top of his own. "I seem to recall you saying that I would never get to see them on you," his gaze fixed on the red silk boxer shorts that Clark was wearing.

"I only wore them because it's a Christmassy color," he insists.

"_Sure_," Oliver remarks in a slightly sarcastic tone as he kneels down in front of Clark.

"Oliver?" he asks in a questioning tone.

"Remember what I said in my note about taking them off you?" quirking a brow as Oliver's fingers lightly grip Clark's waist while pressing his lips against his length through the silky fabric.

"Mmm, more," his fingers threading through Oliver's hair.

"Whatever the gentleman wants, the gentleman gets," Oliver replies as his fingers slip inside the waistband of the boxers and slowly draws them downward. Clark lifts his feet so Oliver could pull them off completely. "Wow," he whispers in awe as Clark stands there before him in all his magnificent nakedness. "You're beautiful," he says in a soft voice as he takes the head in his mouth while cupping Clark's cheeks in his hands and gently squeezing them at the same time.

Clark throws his head back, his eyes shutting as Oliver sucks gently at first, gradually taking more and more inside until he has all of his length inside his mouth. Clark's fingers firmly grip Oliver's head and he begins to thrust into his mouth as Oliver bobs his head up and down on him. Clark's legs begin to wobble as he feels the stirrings of an orgasm fast approaching. All of a sudden Oliver removes his mouth and stands up.

Clark opens his eyes and stares at Oliver in disbelief. "Why did you stop?"

Oliver doesn't answer him at first as he pulls down his boxers and tosses them away. "I want you inside me when you cum, _that's_ why" he replies as he grabs a pillow from the couch and drops it on the floor. "So how do you want me?"

"I…uh…" stammering a little.

"On my hands and knees?"

Clark nods his head. "Okay," Oliver replies and kneels down on the rug.

"What about protection?" Clark asks as he kneels down behind him.

Oliver cranes his neck. "I trust you," gazing up at him. "Do you trust me?"

Clark doesn't hesitate to give him his answer. "I do," leaning forward to kiss his lips.

Oliver smiles at him as he lays his head down on the pillow.

Clark takes a deep calming breath, then exhales before rubbing his fingers on himself to lubricate them. "I need to prepare you first," he tells Oliver as he presses one finger against his entrance, then slowly pushes it forward until it's fully inside.

Oliver moans softly as Clark gently thrusts his finger in and out, occasionally twisting it slightly for added pleasure before he gradually adds one more finger and scissors them inside Oliver. "Oh that feels _sooo_ good," Oliver gasps out as Clark adds a third finger.

"Do you want another one?" Clark asks as he thrusts his fingers harder and faster.

"No," shaking his head from side to side. "I need you inside me _now_."

Clark gradually removes his fingers one at a time, then uses them to spread Oliver's cheeks apart before positioning himself at his entrance. "This might burn a little at first."

"I know," Oliver whispers back. "I'm more than ready for it."

"Alright," Clark replies.

"Ahh," Oliver moans loudly as Clark slowly pushes forward, not stopping until he's fully inside him. He continues to groan with pleasure as Clark's generous length fills him up, stretching him almost to the breaking point. "Oh, _my_," his fingers gripping the pillow.

Clark's hands cup and massage Oliver's cheeks before moving upwards to his back, gently stroking it up and down along his spine with his fingers to relax him. "I'm gonna start moving now," lowering his head and whispering in Oliver's ear.

Oliver nods; his eyes closed as Clark pulls out almost all the way, then pushes back in. "_Yes_," Oliver gasps out as Clark continues his gentle thrusts for a while before wrapping his arms around Oliver's chest and pulling him up so that he was seated on his lap. Oliver turns his head and gazes into Clark's eyes.

"I thought you'd also like to be on top," Clark staring back with hazy-filled eyes as he starts thrusting upwards while they kiss passionately, their fingers clasped tightly together on Oliver's stomach.

More gasps and moans could be heard as they continued making love. One of Clark's hands move down to Oliver's length, his fingers squeezing and pulling it in time with his thrusts. "Oh, f*ck!" Oliver cries out as Clark's deep thrusts hit his prostate over and over.

"Not f*ck, love," Clark whispers back between kisses.

Clark's words turn him on even more as he lifts himself up and down on Clark's length at the same time that Clark is thrusting it upward, the sound of his balls slapping hard against Oliver's ass.

"Ah, Clark!" he screams out as his eyes roll in the back of his head while his body shudders from a mind-blowing orgasm. Clark's arms wrap tightly around his chest as he continues his deep penetrations until he has his release and explodes inside him, crying out softly as his body shakes. Finally he loosens his arms and gently lowers Oliver down to the rug on the floor before slowly pulling out and lying down on top of him.

After a few minutes, he whispers in his ear. "Was it okay?" he asks while kissing the back of Oliver's neck.

"It was more than okay," he whispers back as Clark rolls off him and onto his side.

"Yeah?" his hand reaching out to touch Oliver's cheek.

"Yeah," Oliver responds as he rolls on his side and faces him. "That was the most _amazing_ sex I've ever had," he says with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I would rather call it making love," Clark smiles back at him.

"So what about you?"

Clark moves closer until their bodies were barely touching. "Ditto," he replies with a wink.

Oliver rolls his eyes but can't help chuckling. "_Now_ who's being a bad boy?"

"It's your bad influence," Clark replies in a laughing tone as his hand caresses Oliver's chest. "So let me ask you something. Which do you like better, meatballs or sausages?"

Oliver gives him a strange look before answering. "I love them both, but I'd probably give the edge to the sausage. Why do you want to know?"

Clark doesn't answer; instead he pushes Oliver down on his back and hooks his legs over his shoulders. "I love them both too, but right now I'm in the mood for meatballs," he replies in a husky tone, cupping Oliver's ass cheeks in his hands as he lowers his tongue. "Mmm, delicious," he murmurs between nibbles.

"Clark?" he gasps out between moans as the sensations the tongue and mouth between his inner thighs are giving him drive him crazy with desire.

Clark stops for a moment and looks up. "What?"

"Any chance you might be in the mood for a sausage after the meatballs?"

Clark pretends to think about it for a moment. "I think that could be arranged," he replies with a wicked grin on his face as he lowers his head again…


	16. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

**Early the next morning…**

"Honey, breakfast is almost ready," he calls out from the kitchen.

"Coming," she responds back as she throws his flannel shirt over her naked form.

He turns around when she enters the kitchen. "I love the way my shirt looks on you," putting down the spatula to pull her into his arms and kiss her.

"Mmm," softly sighing as his hands slip beneath the shirt to caress her backside. "Now didn't you have enough of that last night?" looking up at him with a twinkle in her eyes.

"I could never get enough of you," he grins back before reluctantly removing his arms.

"Good answer," she replies as she sits down while he goes back to the stove. "So where's my paper?" she asks as she pours some pink grapefruit juice into two small juice glasses.

"Here," handing it to her before removing the last pancake from the cast iron pan and placing it on a serving platter. "I don't understand why you even _read_ that garbage. If you absolutely _must_ read it, then why can't you read it online?" he asks as he shuts off the gas burner.

"I get a kick out of reading about the latest gossip, but my favorite part is critiquing the fashions," she grins back. "I don't take any of it seriously. Besides, I like reading an actual paper for the same reason that I enjoy reading books instead of using one of those Kindles or Nooks," she replies as she takes it from him. "I just _love_ the scent of the printed page," she says while taking a sniff of the front page. Her eyes pop open at one of the pictures she sees there, so she immediately turns the page to read the accompanying article.

He sets the platter down in the middle of the kitchen table. "Do you want some coffee?" he asks as he looks over. "Something wrong?" he asks when he sees the expression on her face.

"Take a look," handing him the paper.

He takes it from her and looks at the picture. "Is that…" he stares back at her with the same expression.

"I think it is," nodding her head. "Those are the two men we saw through my telescope the other night. I _thought_ the blonde guy seemed familiar for some reason. I just couldn't place the other one."

"Is romance finally in the air for billionaire Oliver Queen?" he reads out loud. "The CEO of Queen Industries was seen on the arm of Kerth award-winningreporter Clark Kent at last night's production of _La Boheme_ at the Metropolis Opera House. They appeared to be very cozy with each other as they enjoyed the performance…" continuing to read the brief article before turning his attention to another picture. "Did you see this other picture?" he asks.

"Which one?" she asks as she walks over to him and looks over his shoulder.

"This one," pointing to the picture next to it.

She takes a look at it before reading the article accompanying it. "This says that former Governor Jonathan Kent was out and about with a woman not his wife," shaking her head sadly. "That's a shame," she adds as she sits back down while he sets the paper down on the table.

She picks up the paper again while sipping her coffee. "They do make an attractive couple though," gazing at the picture.

"Which couple?" he asks.

"Oliver Queen and Clark Kent," she replies as she studies Clark's image intently. "He must be the former Governors son. They look a lot alike, except for the hair color," she remarks while setting down the paper.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" he asks as he pours some maple syrup over his pancakes.

"I just have to stop at the grocery store to pick up a few miscellaneous items for Christmas dinner tomorrow, but that's it," she replies.

"That's it? _No_ last minute Christmas shopping?" arching a brow.

"That's right," she smiles back at him as she gets up from her chair and sits down across his lap. "How about we have breakfast later?" she asks while pressing her lips against his neck.

"I say we just skip breakfast and go straight to dessert," standing up and lifting her into his arms.

"Where are you taking me?" she asks as he starts to walk.

"To the window," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You are _sooo_ bad," she can't help but giggle as he carries her out of the kitchen…

Oliver stifles a yawn as his eyes start to open, then immediately shuts them when the bright morning light hits his face. As they slowly open again, his gaze immediately lands on the muscled bare back of his lover's sleeping form. He smiles when he hears a soft sigh coming out of him so he lays his arm over Clark's waist and pulls him closer.

"Good morning," Oliver whispers while softly kissing Clark's shoulder.

"Time to make the donuts."

Oliver looks at the back of his head. "_What_ did you just say?"

"Flour. Need more flour to make the donuts."

Oliver props himself up on one elbow. "Oliver _loves_ jelly donuts," a smile on his sleeping face.

Oliver can't help chuckling as Clark continues mumbling in his sleep. "Clark wants to lick jelly off Oliver's hot body," his arm moving down to rest over Oliver's arm.

Oliver's eyebrows arch at the last comment. _So he wants to lick jelly off me. I wonder what other fetishes he has, not that I mind, _smiling to himself as he kisses the back of Clark's neck. "Mmm, morning," he mumbles as his eyes slowly open before turning around to face Oliver. "Sleep okay?"

"I slept _great_," Oliver smiles as he leans forward to softly kiss his lips. "What about you?"

"So did I," Clark smiles back at him as he pushes Oliver onto his back and lies on top of him.

"It appears that somebody woke up frisky this morning," Oliver says between kisses when Clark's fingers wrap around his length.

"I've been frisky since the moment I met you," Clark replies as he strokes him up and down.

"I got that impression," Oliver replies with a smirk and proceeds to do the same thing to Clark.

"I got the same impression from you," Clark replies as he rolls himself onto his back so that Oliver was lying on top.

Oliver looks down at him. "What do you think you're doing?" he asks in a curious tone as he sits up, his hands resting on Clark's chest.

"Something that's one of my _many_ fantasies that I've been having about you," he replies with a coy smile as he reaches up to cup and squeeze Oliver's cheeks. "Ride me, _Green Arrow_."

"Green Arrow?" looking curiously at him.

"The 'green' is because it's your favorite color."

"What about the arrow?"

"The arrow represents your love of archery," Clark tells him as he pulls him forward until his hard length is snuggled between Oliver's cheeks.

"Mmm," Oliver sighs while moving his backside up and down against Clark's length a few times before getting off him and leaving the bed.

"Where are you going?" Clark sits up and watches as Oliver walks over to the bureau situated across from the bed.

"To find this," pulling out something from the bottom bureau drawer and holding it up.

"Is that a-?"

"Yep," Oliver replies as he comes back to the bed and straddles Clark's thighs again.

"When did you get it?" Clark asks as Oliver puts the dark green mask over his eyes while he lies back down.

"I dressed up as Robin Hood for a charity fundraiser I held this past Halloween," he replies as he ties it securely behind his head. "So how do I look?" he asks while resting his hands on his waist.

"_Very_ mysterious and sexy," Clark drawls in a husky tone while his fingers grip Oliver's waist. "So are you waiting for an invitation or are you gonna go ahead and ride me, _Green Arrow_?_"_ arching one brow.

"I don't _need_ an invitation when it comes to you," Oliver smirks as he positions himself above Clark and reaches behind his back to spread his own cheeks with his fingers. "I'll ride your long, _hard_ arrow _any_ time," he responds with a mischievous grin as he sinks down on him, gripping Clark's shoulder with one hand while stroking himself with the other as he begins to ride Clark hard and fast...

**The Kent home**

Martha drags herself out of bed and grabs her robe, tying the belt as she steps out into the hallway. She was going to head downstairs, but decided instead to head for Clark's bedroom and see if he was still sleeping. She opens the door a crack and looks in, a surprised look on her face when she sees the carefully made bed. _He didn't come home again? _She immediately closes the door and rests her back against it when she hears footsteps coming out of their bedroom.

"Martha, what are you doing up so early?" a bleary-eyed Jonathan asks as he comes out of the bedroom.

"I had to go to the bathroom," she quickly replies.

"Then why are you standing in front of Clark's door?" he asks in a curious tone.

"I was just checking on him," she replies with arms folded against.

"And?"

"Sleeping like a baby," her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I see," he remarks and reaches for the doorknob.

"What do you think you're doing?" pushing his hand away.

"I thought I'd check in on my son if you don't mind," he retorts as he pushes the door open and looks inside. "Last time I checked, we didn't have an invisible son," turning around to face her. "He didn't come home last night, did he?" he asks with his hands on his hips.

"I'm sure he did," she replies as she closes the door. "He probably just went to the gym to work out."

"I'm sure that he _didn't_," he counters.

"How do _you_ know?" she queries.

"I just do," a barely disguised smirk on his face.

"Jonathan Kent, if you're holding out on me…" she warns him, but before he could answer her the phone rings. "Who on earth would be calling now," she scowls as she abruptly goes downstairs to answer the phone.

Jonathan watches her until she's out of his sight before looking inside Clark's bedroom again. _I hope you know what you're doing, _shaking his head as he closes the door and goes back to the bedroom.

"That was _amazing!"_ Oliver exclaims as his head hits the pillow.

Clark pulls the red satin comforter up to mid-chest as he lies on his side. "It was," he replies in a soft voice, his hand resting on Oliver's chest. "_Sooo_…" his voice trailing off.

"_Sooo_," Oliver repeats as he lays his hand over Clark's. "I suppose this is where you say that we should talk."

Clark nods his head.

"You're probably wondering whether or not we have more than just a physical connection."

"Yes," Clark replies.

"Well my answer to that is a definite _yes_," Oliver declares as he leans forward to softly kiss Clark's lips.

"How can you be so sure?" Clark asks as he props himself up on one elbow and looks down at his lover. "I mean…everything happened so fast. Technically, we've only known each other a few days."

"Some things just can't be explained," Oliver replies. "You just …know," he says with a smile. "You're not?" a concerned expression on his face.

"It's not that I'm not sure," Clark responds back.

"Then what is it?"

Clark sighs again. "It's just that I dated my wife for a long time before we married, and we both know how that turned out. Granted it wouldn't have worked out in the long run anyway, but I was still committed to her, you know?"

Oliver nods his head as Clark continues talking. "I'm at a point in my life where I'm ready to settle down. I want to have kids before I'm too old to enjoy them, or even keep up with them. So if you were to tell me that you don't want the same thing, then what we have going on right now would have to come to an end."

Oliver pulls Clark closer until their chests were lightly touching. "I've been thinking about what we talked about during the interview and I came to some conclusions."

"You did?" Clark asks with a hopeful expression on his face.

"Yes," Oliver replies with a nod. "I _am_ ready to settle down with one person and I _do_ want to have kids," his hand reaching out to gently caress Clark's cheek. "It's just that for right now, I want to enjoy spending some time with you so that I could get to know you better before those kids come along. I know that may sound unbelievably selfish but-"

"It's _not_," Clark interrupts him with a deep kiss. "I'm relieved to hear you say that because I feel the same way," smiling down at him after their lips part. "I want to get to know you better too, and not just in the bedroom either."

"Good," Oliver whispers back as they lay there in the stillness of early morning. "Now that we have that settled, there's a couple other things we should talk about."

"Sure," Clark replies as he rests his head on Oliver's shoulder and closes his eyes. "What's on your mind?"

"It's about Lois," Oliver replies.

Clark softly sighs as his fingers idly caressing Oliver's smooth chest in concentric circles. "I figured that subject would come up."

"When are you going to talk to her?" Oliver asks while his hand gently rubs Clark's upper arm.

"I will when she comes back. It's not the kind of conversation you have over the phone or on _Skype_ even."

"That makes sense," Oliver remarks. "Do you have any idea what you're going to say?"

"I don't know," Clark sighs again. "I just don't know. I mean, it was her idea for us to get married in the first place. How could I go back on a promise I made to her?"

"I know," Oliver says in a soft voice and kisses the top of Clark's head.

"I don't want to hurt her," Clark goes on.

"I know that too."

Clark opens his eyes and gazes up at him. "Thank you."

"For what?" looking back at him curiously.

"For being so understanding," he smiles just before they kiss. "Mmm, you taste so yummy," he mutters between kisses.

Oliver smiles inwardly, remembering what Clark said in his sleep. "I'm not the only one who tastes yummy," he replies back.

Clark can't help the small blush creeping up on his cheeks. "So you said there were a _couple_ things you wanted to talk about?" changing the subject.

"Well, I was also thinking about what you said earlier about fantasies."

"Oh?" looking curiously at him while quirking one brow.

"I was wondering what other things you've fantasized about."

"You really want to know?" Clark asks in a suggestive tone.

"If you tell me, I just might do them."

"Well…" leaning forward and whispering in Oliver's ear.

"That's definitely doable," he answers back as he throws off the comforter. "Get into position, my sexy x-rated Boy Scout," he tells him in a firm and husky voice.

"Boy Scout?" Clark queries with an arch of his brow. "How did you know I was a Boy Scout?"

"You're not the only one who does research," Oliver winks at him. "Seriously though, I had no idea that you were one of the first openly gay men to ever be a troop leader. That's quite an accomplishment," he says with admiration.

"It wasn't easy to get to that point. It was a definite struggle. A very _long_ struggle," Clark admits. "Sometimes I still get…never mind."

"Get _what?"_ Oliver looks at him with a concerned look on his face. "If there's somebody threatening you in any way-"

"It's nothing like that," he reassures him. "There's always going to be someone who doesn't approve of my leading a troop because of my sexual orientation. I can handle it. Now can we _please _drop the subject?" he asks as he rolls onto his stomach.

"Alright. The subject is dropped," Oliver replies.

"So where were we?" Clark asks as he looks over his shoulder; sticking his ass up in the air and wiggling it enticingly at Oliver.

"You are _such_ a tease," Oliver says with a laugh as he kneels down behind him. "If I remember correctly, I think I was just about ready to fulfill one of _your_ fantasies," he says with a cheeky grin as he lowers his tongue.

Clark moans softly at the sensations coming from the rough yet slick tongue gliding back and forth between his cheeks, his fingers gripping the pillars of the headboard as Oliver's fingers firmly cup and squeeze them.

"Yes!" burying his head deep in the pillow. His eyes squeeze tight from the pleasure, his ass involuntarily twitching as Oliver makes his way down to his entrance and lightly traces the rim with his tongue. "Yes!" Clark cries out yet again as Oliver's mouth covers his entrance and plunges his tongue _deep_ inside him…

Martha picks up the phone. "Hello?" she answers while placing the phone between her head and shoulder. "_Excuse_ me?" her voice rising slightly before getting it under control. "We have no comment at this time," she replies in a cool tone and hangs up. Immediately the phone rings again. "We have no comment at this time," she repeats and hangs up again.

She starts to walk away when the phone rings again. "Damn it!" she scowls and picks it up again. "We have no comment at this time," she says yet again and immediately disconnects the call. She starts to put the phone back in its cradle, but changes her mind and sets the receiver down next to it.

_That'll show them, _she mutters under her breath as she heads over to the small desk in the kitchen and boots up her laptop. She immediately brings up the _Inquisitors _website and sees the picture of Clark and Oliver, but then her eyes widen in disbelief when she sees the picture of Jonathan and Mona next to it. _I'm gonna kill him, _her eyes darkening as she grabs the printout and immediately heads back upstairs.**  
**

Jonathan was talking on the phone as he was exiting the bedroom when he sees Martha coming up the stairs. "Ronny just called," he says as he hangs up. "One of his customers had to cancel their order, so now he has two chocolate and two cinnamon babka's available," he says with a smile as he slips his phone into his pants pocket.

She strides up to him. "You son of a b!tch!" slapping him across the face.

"What the _hell_ was that for?!" his eyes narrowing while holding his hand up to his cheek.

"For this," holding up the printout of the article from the _Inquisitor_.

He stares at the picture of him and Mona. "Oh," a sheepish look on his face as he takes it from her and reads the article. "Martha, it's not what you think."

"Well let's see," she begins. "A picture of you and a woman quote not your wife unquote at the opera looking quite cozy together." she says coolly.

"Martha, don't you recognize her?" he says at last. "It's Mona."

Her mouth opens in a large 'o' at the mention of Mona's name. "_Mona?"_ snatching the paper out of his grasp and studying the picture. "Well I'll be damned," shaking her head in astonishment.

"She cut her hair and colored it red," he replies.

"She must have exchanged her glasses for contacts too," she remarks as she slowly folds up the paper. "I didn't even recognize her," slipping the paper into her pocket before looking up at her husband. "I'm sorry for slapping you."

"No need to apologize," he says as he takes a few steps closer. "I should have told you that I was taking her to the opera. Yesterday would have been her tenth wedding anniversary and she had the tickets and-"

"It's just that lately you haven't been acting like yourself. When I smelled perfume on your shirt the other day that wasn't mine, what else was I supposed to think?" When he doesn't immediately reply, she goes on. "I didn't even know she was back in Metropolis."

"She moved back here from New York not long after Janet passed away," he says after a long pause. "We get together every week for lunch. Sometimes it's coffee."

"Why didn't you tell me?" her eyes glistening a little. "Didn't you think I would understand you wanting to spend time with an old friend?"

"Deep down I guess I knew you would but I just-"

"-wanted something that was just yours?" she pipes in.

He nods his head. "I still should have told you."

"You're right. You should have," lightly punching his upper arm.

He smiles back at her before glancing at his watch. "I better go pick up those babka's," he says as he starts to turn towards the stairs.

"Jonathan?" she calls out.

"There's something else that I don't understand.

"What?"

"Why have you been so moody and irritable lately?"

His mouth starts to open but it closes again. "Clark and I are concerned about you."

He purses his lips. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Then at least tell me why you don't like Lois."

"You know why," still frowning.

"It's not about that article she wrote criticizing one of your policies while you were Governor, is it?" she asks.

"You know damn well it is," he snaps back.

"Honey," walking up to him and resting her hands on his shoulders. "It's time to let it go. Lois will be here soon and I don't want a repeat of the last time the two of you were in a room together."

He looks back at her with a surprised expression. "You invited her to _breakfast?"_

"Of course I did," Martha replies. "When you pick up those babka's, don't forget to pick up some maple donuts too."

"_Fine_," rolling his eyes as he goes inside the bedroom to get his wallet and keys, then comes back out. "Uh…Martha?"

"What?" looking at him curiously.

"You haven't said anything about Clark's picture being in the paper. What do you think about him being with Oliver Queen?"

"I'm not sure what to think," she replies as they head down the stairs. "I only want him to be happy."

"Me too," Jonathan agrees as they reach the first floor. "I wonder if Lois has seen the paper yet," he says as he puts on his coat.

"More importantly, has Clark seen it," arching her brow.

"That, my dear, is the question," he says as he puts on his hat and gloves. "I won't be long, I hope," opening the door.

"Jonathan?"

He turns to look at her. "What?"

"I agreed with what Lois said in the article."

His jaw drops at her admission. "You…_what?!"_

"Deep down, you know she was right," she winks at him as she heads in the direction of the kitchen.

"That's _not_ funny!" he yells out, frowning again when he hears her laughter as a response. He grumbles under his breath as he goes outside, slamming the door behind him…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	17. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

Lois pours some coffee into her Whitesnake mug, then walks over to the couch and sits down. "Ahh," she sighs with contentment as she props her feet up on the coffee table, her eyes closing as she sips her coffee. Just as she's about to take another sip, the doorbell rings. _Can't I have just __one__ cup of coffee in peace? _ she scowls as she sets the cup down on the coffee table and walks over to the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me."

She unlocks the deadbolt then removes the chain before finally opening the door. "I didn't expect to see you until tonight," she remarks as he comes inside.

"Change of plans," he says as he locks the door behind him.

"Oh, really," a curious tone in her voice.

"I thought I'd take the whole weekend off."

Her jaw drops with astonishment. "The world must be ending if _you're_ taking any days off," she quips after a short pause. "What changed your mind?"

He comes closer to her and wraps his arms around her. "I wanted to spend Christmas with you and not in back to back meetings."

She puts her hand over her heart. "That means _so_ much to me," she replies with emotion in her voice. "That's the best Christmas present you could have ever given me," resting her head on his shoulder. "I don't need anything else."

He continues to hold her. "Well if that's the case, then I guess I'll have to return the present I got you," he says casually.

She lifts her head and looks up. "Well, I certainly wouldn't want you to go through all that trouble just for me," she says teasingly.

"_That's_ my girl," he says with laughter in his voice.

She laughs along with him, but then clasps her hand over her mouth. "I didn't get _you_ anything."

"That's okay," he tells her. "I have everything I need _right_ here," kissing her hand.

"No, it's _not_ okay," pulling out of his arms and rushing out of the room and down the hall to her bedroom.

"What _are_ you doing?" watching as she changes into jeans and a sweater, then sits down on the bed and pulls on her boots.

"I have to do some Christmas shopping," she answers back as she gets up and hurriedly puts on her coat along with her gloves and hat, then grabs her purse and keys.

"But I told you that's not necessary," he insists.

She turns around and walks over to him, her hands resting on his broad shoulders. "I want to," she says in a soft voice. "Okay?"

"Why do I always end up giving in to you?"

"Because I'm me," she grins widely as she walks out of the bedroom.

_Why do I get the feeling that I'll always be following her? _shaking his head in amusement as he follows her out of the bedroom. "Will you at least take advantage of my limo?" he asks as they step out into the hallway.

"I was counting on it," still grinning as she locks the door to her apartment. "There's just one thing I have to do first though," she says as they enter the elevator.

"What's that?" he asks as the doors slowly closes, then begins to descend.

"Breakfast with the Kent's," she replies as the doors open on the first floor.

"What about your father?"

"Lucy and I are going to visit him at the rehabilitation center this afternoon," she replies.

He doesn't say another word until they exit the building. "So how did Clark take the news about us?"

Her mood turns somber and she sighs softly as they start walking towards the limo that was parked about a half block away. "He doesn't know yet. I stopped by the house last night but he wasn't home," she replies as they start to walk past a newspaper stand when out of the corner of her eye she spots the two pictures on the front page of the _Inquisitor_.

"What?" her eyes widening as she grabs a copy and flips the page. "I don't believe it!" her voice rising an octave as she reads the inside article.

He reads over her shoulder. "Isn't the man in the other picture Clark's father?"

"Duh," she replies in an annoyed tone as she slams the paper shut. "I knew it!" she exclaims. "I _knew_ there was something going on between Clark and Oliver that I didn't know about!"

"Why are you getting so upset?" he asks as she throws the paper back down on the pile. "I thought you'd be happy that he found someone?"

"Because he didn't have the decency to tell me first. I thought we were closer than that," abruptly turning on her heel and walking away.

He quickly gives the man behind the counter some money and picks up the discarded paper. "Maybe he didn't want to tell you over the phone and was going to tell you when you got back," he says while following her to the limo.

She doesn't say anything as she rests her hand on the door handle. "Did it even _occur_ to you that they might not even know about this yet?"' he asks while holding up the paper.

She lets go of the handle, turning around to look at the paper in his hand. "No," she concedes.

He folds it up and sticks it inside his coat pocket. "I think deep down you know that he didn't plan on anything happening between him and Oliver," resting his hands on her shoulders and turning her around to face him. "Just like he's not going to expect _us_ getting back together. Right? Right?" he asks with an arch of his brow.

"I just _hate_ it when you're right," she says with a frown on her face.

"Well miracles _do_ happen," he replies in a teasing tone.

She promptly punches his upper arm.

"What was _that_ for?" he asks as he rubs his arm.

"_That's_ for being a smart ass," she replies with an arch of her brow.

He promptly pushes her up against the front passenger side door, firmly wrapping his fingers around her wrists and holding them up above her head. "You _will_ be punished for that, Miss Lane," his eyes darkening as his lips come crashing down on hers.

She gasps out as his tongue swirls around in her mouth, his body pressed up against hers. "Preview of tonight's coming attractions," he whispers huskily before pulling away and opening the back door and holding it open.

_Damn, what a kisser! _her legs wobbling as she sits down on the back seat and drops her purse on the floor. He sits down besides her and closes the door. Once he instructs the chauffer where to go, the car pulls away from the curb and heads in the direction of the Kent house…

"Where are you going?" Oliver asks as Clark gets out of bed.

He turns around. "Shower," he replies with a wink.

Oliver's eyes linger on Clark's naked backside as he exits the bedroom. He lies back down and relaxes for a few minutes before he suddenly sits back up. _What the hell am I doing? I have a sexy, __naked__ boyfriend in the shower and I'm still in bed? _He bolts out of the bed and promptly heads for the bathroom. "Would you like some company?" he asks while pulling the shower curtain back a few inches and poking his head inside.

"Only if it's you," Clark replies in a teasing tone as Oliver steps inside and pulls the curtain back into place. "You're a little late though. I've already soaped up," he replies as he rinses his front, then turns around to rinse his back. "Mmm, that feels so good," Clark murmurs softly, the palms of his hands resting on the back wall of the shower, his eyes closed as the hot water soothes his back.

"I can think of something else that would make you feel even _better_," Oliver replies in a suggestive tone as he comes up behind him and presses his front to Clark's back while his fingers gently rub his nipples.

"That's a good start," a soft moan coming out of Clark's mouth before opening his eyes and craning his neck to look back at Oliver. "Show me what you got, _Green Arrow_," daring him with his eyes.

Oliver cocks his head in a curious way and pretends to think about it before smiling wickedly and gripping Clark's waist, pulling his ass out. "Is this what you had in mind, _Boy Scout?"_ he whispers in his ear as he presses his length between Clark's cheeks and enters him.

"Oh, _yeah_," Clark moans out, his eyes closing again and his forehead resting once more on the tiled wall in front of him.

"Good to know we're in sync with each other," Oliver quips, his thrusts becoming faster and more intense. "You just _love_ having my thick, _hard_ arrow in your tight ass, don't you?" his hot breath on Clark's ear.

"Yes!" Clark cries out once more while pushing back against Oliver.

"What about my mouth nibbling on your neck as I make love to you?" Oliver whispers in his ear.

"Yes!" Clark cries out yet again as Oliver continues penetrating him deeply.

"How about my uncanny ability to hit the bull's-eye _every_ single time?" continuing to whisper as he hits Clark's prostate with each thrust.

"Yes!" Clark throws back his head.

It didn't take much longer for them to both reach their climaxes together, their cries of passion drowned out by the sound of the water cascading down on them. After their shudders subside, Oliver lowers his lips and softly kisses Clark on the side of his neck. "Do you really have to leave?" a hint of disappointment in his voice as Clark pulls away and steps out of the shower.

"I'm afraid I do," Clark replies with a sigh as he towels himself off before exiting the bathroom.

Oliver follows him into the living room while still naked and watches as Clark picks up his boxers. "You're not going to put them back on are you?"

Clark looks up. "You want me to go commando?"

"You know I do," Oliver grins as he walks over to him and pulls them out of Clark's hands. "Besides, you really shouldn't wear the same underwear two days in a row," tossing them onto the couch. "Hygienic reasons," winking back at him.

"Hmm," a thoughtful expression on his face. "You just may have a point there," he says coyly as he puts on his pants sans underwear. "Just this once," he tells him as he puts on the rest of his clothes.

"Once you go commando, you never go back," Oliver continues to grin as Clark picks up the boxers and walks over to the coat rack. "So will I see you tonight?" he asks as Clark puts on his coat and stuffs the boxers in the inner pocket of his coat. "It _is_ Christmas Eve after all."

"I'd love to see you tonight," Clark replies with a smile as he puts on his gloves and hat. "Why don't you come over for dinner, then we could watch _A Christmas Story _afterwards," he says as he presses the elevator button.

"I have a prior commitment later this afternoon so I probably won't be able to make it for dinner, but I would still love to come over and watch that movie with you," says Oliver as the doors open and Clark steps inside. "What time?"

"Would eight be too late?" Clark asks while holding the doors open.

"Eight is fine," Oliver replies. "If I'm able to come earlier-"

"Then just show up," Clark interrupts with a smile as he leans forward to lightly press his lips to Oliver's. "See you later," taking a step backwards, allowing the doors to start closing.

"Screw it," Oliver declares and squeezes through the narrow space. "I _demand_ a better kiss than that," pushing Clark up against the back wall as the doors close behind him…

"Jonathan will be stopping by the bakery for the babka's," Ronny tells his wife as he finishes getting dressed.

"You won't be long will you?" quirking a brow as she puts on her sweatpants and a long-sleeved top.

"No," he replies. "Is there anything you need while I'm out?" he asks as he pulls on his coat.

"I'm all set," Loretta replies with a smile as she sits down on the bed and boots up her laptop.

"You sure?" looking at her curiously. "Last night you were a little nauseated and-"

"Pop picked up some ginger tea for me this morning," she replies as she logs in.

"Alright," he says as he walks over to her and gives her a soft peck on the lips before he walks over to the bedroom door and opens it.

"I don't believe it!" she exclaims as she stares at the screen.

Ronny pauses in the open doorway and turns around. "_What_ don't you believe?" he asks.

"The headline on the _Inquisitors_ website," she replies as she continues staring at the screen.

"Since when do you read the _Inquisitor?"_

"It's one of my guilty pleasures," she says with a sheepish look on her face.

He walks over to the bed and looks over her shoulder at the screen. "Son of a b!tch!" his jaw dropping at the picture of Oliver and Clark.

"I wonder if Oliver knows," she mentions casually as she pulls up the accompanying article.

"I don't know," Ronny says as he pulls out his phone. "I better give him a call and let him know," dialing the number…

Oliver's lips crash down on Clark's and they end up making out for a few minutes in the elevator. "Did I tell you that making love in an elevator is another fantasy of mine?" Clark mumbles between kisses.

"I think I would have remembered that," Oliver mumbles back. "Do you want to…now I mean?" pulling back and looking deeply into Clark's eyes.

"I would love to, but I really have to go," Clark says with regret. "Another time perhaps?"

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Oliver replies before kissing Clark again.

"So you should probably put some clothes on before somebody sees you, not that I _mind_ seeing you naked," Clark remarks as his eyes linger downward before he reluctantly pulls away.

"Do I really have to?" Oliver grins mischievously as the doors open again.

"We're not on that desert island after all," Clark replies with a barely concealed grin.

"One of these days I'll bring you there and we won't need _any_ clothes," Oliver wiggles his brows as he steps out of the elevator.

"I look forward to that," Clark smiles back at him. "I will see _you_ later," waving goodbye as the doors start to close.

Oliver waves back until the doors are closed, then heads for the bedroom. He picks up his phone from the nightstand and takes it off 'vibrate,' then walks over to his closet and picks out something to wear. As he's pulling on a pair of jeans, his phone starts ringing.

"This is Oliver," he answers as he walks over to the bureau and pulls out a tank top. "Hey, Ronny. What's going on?" he asks as he puts it on. "What?!" the blood draining from his face as he sinks down on the bed. "Thanks for letting me know. Bye," hanging up and immediately bringing up the _Inquisitor_ website.

His eyes widen at the picture of him and Clark on the front page. "SH!T!" he swears as he immediately dials Clark's number but it goes straight to voicemail. "SH!T!" he swears again as he hurriedly finishes getting dressed and heads for the stairwell.

Clark reaches in his pocket for his gloves when his fingertips brush against his phone. _I should check my messages, _taking the phone off 'vibrate.' He starts to enter his password as he exits the elevator. He stops mid-way when he sees a woman sitting in the lobby reading the _Inquisitor, _his eyes widening when he sees the picture on the front page. He shoves his phone into his coat pocket and rushes over to her. "Excuse me," he says to her.

She looks up. "Yes?" looking at him curiously.

"May I borrow your paper for just one moment?" he asks politely.

"Of course," handing it to him. "You can have it. I'm finished reading it anyway," getting up and picking up her purse. "Merry Christmas," she says as she walks away.

"And the same to you," he mumbles as he sits down on the couch. _I don't believe this! _ his hand on his forehead as he reads the article. He looks up when he hears his name being called. "Oliver?" standing up as Oliver exits the stairwell and runs up to him.

"Clark, I need to tell you something," he begins to say before Clark interrupts him.

"You mean this?" holding up the paper in front of him.

"Yeah," he says with a nod of his head. "I tried calling you, but you weren't answering."

"I've had it on 'vibrate' since the opera last night," Clark says as he tosses the paper into a nearby trash can. "How did you find out?"

"I got a call from Ronny," Oliver replies as they walk over to a semi-secluded area away from the front door. "His wife saw the picture of us online."

"So now what?" Clark asks while folding his arms across his chest.

"I've had to deal with this kind of publicity for most of my life," Oliver replies with a sigh. "I'm sure it will eventually blow over."

"I hope so," Clark says with a worried expression on his face. "I'm surprised that there isn't a horde of reporters camped outside the front door."

"Apparently there was but my security team handled the situation."

"Why didn't they call you?" Clark asks next.

"Apparently I had my phone on 'vibrate' too," Oliver chuckles wryly as they start walking towards the door that leads to the parking garage.

"Why are we going this way?" Clark asks as he follows him into the parking garage.

"I keep a motorcycle here," Oliver replies with a grin as they walk up a couple flights of stairs. "That's it," pointing to it.

"I've been on a dirt bike before but never a Harley," Clark says as they walk over to it.

"Well now you're really in for a treat," picking up one of the helmets. "Here," tossing it to Clark before picking up the other one.

"Is this really a good idea?" asks Clark a little nervously as he adjusts the strap under his chin.

"Come on, live a little," Oliver replies as he starts the engine. "I'll drop you off a couple blocks before your house, just to be on the safe side."

"Alright," Clark says as he sits down behind him and wraps his arms around Oliver's chest, his chin resting on his shoulder while Oliver revs up the engine.

"Hold on to your skivvies 'cause you in for one hell of a ride," he yells out above the roar of the engine.

"You forget that I'm not wearing any," Clark yells back.

"Damn that's hot!" Oliver mutters as they take off down the street, arriving at the planned drop-off spot a few minutes later.

Clark takes off his helmet and gives Oliver one more lingering kiss before getting off the motorcycle and handing it back to him. "I'll see you tonight," waving back at him.

"You better believe it," Oliver blows him a kiss before he pulls away from the curb.

Clark continues standing there until Oliver was no longer in his sight before stepping off the curb and heading in the direction of his house…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	18. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

Clark walks slowly down the middle of the street, his clothes slightly rumpled and his hair tousled. There's a dreamy expression in his eyes and a soft flush to his cheeks as he remembers his and Oliver's lovemaking from the night before. The flush deepens at the memory of their activities that morning.

He can't stop singing to himself, oblivious to his surroundings as he walks up to a aluminum can and idly kicks it a few feet. He walks up to it and kicks it again, continuing to kick it until it rolls under a parked car across the street from the house.

He's unaware of his mother standing at the stove stirring a pot full of oatmeal as he practically glides into the kitchen, his long black coat swirling around his legs. She looks at him curiously as he sits down. _He looks as if he was loved __all__ night_, smiling inwardly. "What the _hell_ happened to you?" she asks out loud, although she's pretty sure of the answer.

"I don't know where to start," he replies as he sets the program for _La Boheme _down on the table.

"You got contacts," she remarks, peering at him closely. "Even your hair is different."

"Mom, _everything _is different," shrugging his shoulders.

"Are you drunk?" she asks when she notices the dreamy expression in his eyes.

He looks up at her. "No. Are _you_ drunk?" he counters back with an arch of his brow.

"No, but I have a hangover," she replies in a weary voice as she pours some coffee into two mugs and hands him one of them.

"So where's Dad?" he asks next as he stirs some sugar into the mug. "I really need to talk to him."

"He went to the bakery," she replies while sitting down.

"Do you know when he'll be back?" he asks as he raises the mug to his lips.

"He shouldn't be that long," she tells him and sets her mug down. "Clark, I know what you want to talk to your father about."

He stares back at her, his mouth slightly open. When he doesn't say anything, she continues to speak. "I saw the _Inquisitor_ this morning."

"Oh," was all he could say.

"You and Oliver Queen make a very handsome couple," she remarks casually as she takes another sip of her coffee.

He turns a slight shade of red as he sets the mug back down. "What about the picture of Dad with-"

"Mona?"

"You _know_ who she is?"

"Yes," Martha replies and proceeds to tell him all about her. "Your father explained the rest of it this morning, but not before I gave him a good slap across the face."

His jaw drops. "You actually _slapped_ Dad?"

"You better believe I did," she replies with a determined lift of her chin.

"Wow," shaking his head in astonishment. "I wish I could have seen that," chuckling lightly.

They sit there in a comfortable silence for a while sipping their coffee before he speaks up again. "Oliver figured out who Mona really was," he admits as he reaches out for her hand. "You must be relieved that he wasn't cheating on you after all."

"I am, but it still doesn't explain why he's been so irritable and moody lately. If I didn't know any better I would say he was in the throes of a mid-life crisis, but he's _way_ past that age," she says with a sigh.

"I don't know either," sighing himself as he idly glances at the wall calendar. He furrows his brows for a moment before walking over to look at it closely. "Mom, when is Dad's birthday?" turning around to face her.

"January sixth," she replies.

"How old is he going to be?" he asks next.

She thinks about it for a moment before answering. "He's going to be seventy."

"And how old was Grandpa Kent when he died?"

"Your Grandfather died when he was…" her voice trailing off as she has a realization. "He was seventy," she replies in a whisper, her hand over her mouth.

"I think that's why Dad has been so moody lately. He's gonna be the same age as his father was when he passed away," he replies in a serious tone as he walks back over to the table and sits down.

"That would also explain why your father has been talking about death a lot," she remarks.

"Yeah," nodding his head before getting up. "I should probably change into some fresh clothes," he adds as he starts to walk away.

"Clark," she calls out to him.

He turns around. "What?"

"Lois showed up last night."

He stares back at her in shock. "WHAT?!"

"You heard me."

"She's supposed to be in Washington," he replies in a worried tone.

"No more she's not," she tells him.

"She's with her _sick_ father in Washington," he insists.

"Her father was transferred to a hospital here in Metropolis. Apparently the stroke wasn't as severe as the doctors predicted. According to Lois, it was a miracle."

"A miracle? There aren't supposed to be miracles anymore."

"She came straight from the airport to talk to you," getting up from her chair. "She said she left you several voice messages on your cell phone," she continues as he's unwinding the scarf from his neck. "You have a love bite on your neck. She's coming back this morning. What's the matter with you? Your life is going down the toilet!" she gestures with her hands. "Cover up that damn thing!"

"With what?" he snaps back.

"I have some concealer you can use," walking over to the desk and looking through her purse. "Here," holding the tube out towards him.

"You _can't_ be serious," staring at her in astonishment. "You expect me to put on _make-up_?"

"Do you have any better ideas?"

"_Fine_," snatching it out of her hand and walks over to the closet to pull out some clothes. They stare at each other when the doorbell rings. "Oh, no," Clark mutters. "Answer the door," he tells her as he walks out of the room. "Mother!" He yells out from the other room when it rings again.

She shakes her head as she walks down the hall, not stopping until she's reached the door and peers through the glass pane before opening it. "Hello. Is Clark here?

She's taken aback for a moment at the blonde Adonis standing in front of her._ That certainly explains why Clark didn't come home last night, _she thinks to herself. _Not that I blame him, _her eyes briefly sweeping over the man's body before shaking herself out of her thoughts_. _"Come on in," chuckling under her breath as Oliver steps into the house. "It's _not_ Lois," she calls out as she shuts the front door.

Clark re-enters the kitchen dressed in his sweatpants. "Oliver," a surprised look on his face as he puts a blue long-sleeved v-neck top over his grey t-shirt. "What are you doing here?"

"You forgot this in the limo," walking over to Clark and handing him the duffle bag.

"Thanks," taking it from him, his gaze softening for a moment as he looks into Oliver's eyes. "Lois came back early and wants to talk to me," giving himself a mental shake.

"Good," Oliver replies with a grin. We can get this all out on the table," turning to Martha. "I'm Oliver Queen," extending his hand.

"Nice to meet you," shaking it before pushing back the collar on his shirt. "You have a love bite on your neck," she replies with a straight face. "Just like Clark's," smiling inwardly.

Clark just rolls his eyes as Oliver nervously adjusts his collar. "The stroke Lois' father had wasn't as bad as she thought," Clark says as they all re-enter the kitchen. "Maybe you shouldn't be here when she comes."

"No, I think I'll stay."

"Oliver, please," arguing with him. "I really don't think-"

"Would anybody like some oatmeal?" Martha asks as she shuts off the stovetop.

"Mrs. Kent, I would _love_ some oatmeal," he replies with a grin, ignoring Clark as he sits down.

Clark sits down next to him while Martha scoops some oatmeal into a couple of bowls and sets them down in front of them. "Would you like some honey to put on your oatmeal?" she asks him.

"Yes, I would," Oliver responds politely as she hands him the bottle. "Thank you," taking it from her.

"You should come over one of these days for Mom's pancakes. They're the best you'll ever have," Clark says as he uses the bottle of honey after Oliver is finished with it. "Once in a while she'll put raspberries in them. I _love_ raspberries," smiling back at Oliver as he sets the bottle back down on the table.

Oliver smiles warmly at him as he dips his spoon into the oatmeal and raises it to his lips.

"Mmm," he murmurs as he slips it into his mouth.

"Who wants a jelly donut?" Jonathan announces as he enters the kitchen carrying several bags full of bakery boxes.

Oliver does a spit take, choking slightly while some of the oatmeal he spit out ends up on the tablecloth. "Are you okay, Oliver?" he asks with a look of concern while patting his back a few times.

"I'm fine," he insists, taking a napkin from Martha and wiping his mouth with it. "I'm sorry about your tablecloth," he says as he picks up a second napkin and starts wiping the cloth.

"It's okay," she replies with a warm smile. "The important thing is that _you're_ okay."

"I am," he says as he sets the napkin down and stands up. "We haven't met formally," walking over to Jonathan. "I'm Oliver Queen."

"Jonathan Kent. Clark's father," setting the boxes on the table and eyeing him curiously before they shake hands.

"Oliver's the one you saw me with last night at the opera," Clark tells his father as both of them sit down in their respective chairs.

"Yes, about that…" Jonathan starts to say, but Clark interrupts him.

"I know who Mona is."

"You do?" looking at him before turning to Martha. "You told him?"

"Oliver figured it out," Clark interjects. "Mom just filled in the blanks."

"So you're not still angry at me?" Jonathan asks in a hopeful tone.

"Not anymore," he says while laying his hand briefly on his fathers.

"That's a relief," he replies with a chuckle as Martha puts a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. "Let's eat," he smiles as he picks up his spoon.

Oliver and Clark briefly look at each other and smile as they pick up their spoons. They start to eat when Martha suddenly speaks up. "Clark and I think we've figured out why you've been so moody and talking about death lately."

Everybody stops eating. Clark sets his spoon down, his hand covering his eyes. There's dead silence as Martha's words hang in the air. All of a sudden, Jonathan stands up and smashes his fist on the table, not looking over at any of them before slowly sitting down again.

Clark and Martha exchange glances before she continues on. "You're turning seventy in a couple weeks and since your father died when _he_ was seventy, well…" her voice trailing off.

Jonathan heaves a sigh and leans back against his chair. "A man understands one day that is life is built on nothing," still not looking at her. "And that's a bad, crazy day," shaking his head sadly.

"Jonathan?"

He finally looks up at Martha.

"Your life is not built on _nothing_," she says in a firm tone. "You're the most respected Governor this state has ever had. You have many wonderful friends and a family who loves you," walking over to him and stooping down in front of him. "So don't you _dare_ tell me that your life is built on _nothing_," cupping his face with her hands. "Ti amo."

"Ti amo," gazing lovingly into her eyes before lowering his lips to hers.

"Damn it," Oliver mutters as he wipes his eyes on his sleeve.

Clark looks at him curiously. "Are you _crying?"_

"No," Oliver insists but his glistening eyes betray him.

"If you say so," smiling inwardly before pressing his lips against Oliver's cheek. Just then the doorbell rings. "That has to be Lois," Clark says nervously as he gets up.

"I'll get it," Oliver declares and gets up too.

"_I'll_ get it," Martha says before either one of them could move.

"I should tell her," Oliver says.

"No, Oliver," Clark replies before turning to his father. "What am I gonna tell her?"

"Tell her the truth, Clark. They find out anyway," shrugging his shoulders.

Clark rests his hand on his father's shoulder and lowers his head. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, son."

"It's not Lois," Martha says as she comes back into the kitchen followed close behind by Jimmy and Chloe.

"Hi, Clark," they both say at the same time.

"Hi," he replies back while Jimmy pulls out a chair for Chloe to sit down on. "I thought you'd be at the store," he remarks as Jimmy walks over to Martha.

"You forgot to pick up your mothers order yesterday," he replies as he hands her the bag.

"Oh," a sheepish expression on his face.

"We figured you had a lot on your mind. You know, because of the wedding," Chloe remarks.

Martha pours some coffee into a mug and hands it to Jimmy. "Would you like some decaf?" she asks Chloe.

"No thank you, but I will have some cranberry juice if you have any," she responds with a smile. "So what are we doing?"

"We're waiting for Lois," Martha replies as she pours some juice into a glass and hands it to Chloe before sitting back down.

"I see," Chloe nods. "Hi, Oliver. It's been a long time. How have you been?"

"I'm fine, Chloe. How are you?" he asks as he comes over to give her a brief hug.

"Fine, just fine," she replies with a smile.

"You look like you're almost ready to pop," looking down at her belly.

"The doctor says I'm due around New Year's but Mrs. K thinks it might be sooner," she replies with a smile, her hands resting lightly on her stomach. "By the way, this is my husband, Jimmy."

"Very nice to finally meet you," shaking Jimmy's hand.

"So how do you know Clark?" Jimmy asks as he sits down next to his wife.

"We met when Clark came to the bakery the other day to invite me to the wedding because Lois wanted me there," Oliver replies as he sits back down in his chair.

"I thought that there was still bad blood between you two because of the accident," looking at him with curiosity. "I wonder what changed her mind," she remarks out loud.

"I honestly don't know," shrugging his shoulders. "I'm just glad she did," looking over at Clark with a wink and a smile.

"I'm glad too," Clark replies back before the conversation lapses into silence.

Jimmy looks around at everybody as the silence continues. "Somebody _please_ tell a joke," he blurts out, startling everybody. Oliver is the first to laugh, followed by Clark then everybody else.

"So how about these jelly donuts," Jonathan pipes up as he opens one of the boxes. "Oliver, would you like one?"

Oliver looks sideways and gives Clark a suggestive wink before replying. "Not right now, but can you put one aside for me for later?"

"Of course," he answers back. "How about you, Clark? Would you like one?"

"I would _love_ one," says Clark as he takes one out of the box. While the others are making casual chit chat, Clark bites into his donut. "Mmm, raspberry filling. My favorite," he remarks as he takes another bite.

Oliver can't help staring at the spot of jelly on Clark's lower lip. "You…uh…missed a spot," pointing to Clark's lower lip.

"Thanks," Clark says as he swipes his tongue across his lip. "All gone?" he asks with a smile.

"Yeah," gulping thickly as Clark squeezes the donut until some of the jelly oozes out and he uses his tongue to lap it off.

"Clark, I need to have a word with you," abruptly pushing his chair back and standing up. "Out there," cocking his head in the direction of the living room.

"Alright," he says as he follows Oliver out of the kitchen.

Jimmy turns to Chloe. "What do you think _that_ was all about?" he asks.

"I have _no_ idea," shaking her head as she pulls out a jelly donut from the box.

"So what's up?" Clark asks as they enter the living room while still munching on his donut.

"Will you _please_ stop eating that?" Oliver says with a trace of annoyance in his voice as he grabs the donut out of Clark's hands and sets it down on the side table.

"Will you tell me what the _hell_ is going on?" Clark asks him with exasperation.

Instead of answering, Oliver promptly pushes Clark up against the staircase railing and plants a passionate kiss on his lips. "You were driving me _crazy_ with how you were eating that jelly donut," he murmurs between kisses.

Clark tears his lips away for a moment. "I don't understand."

"Before you woke up this morning, you were talking in your sleep about how much you would love to lick jelly off me," Oliver blurts out.

His eyes widen at Oliver's admission. "I talk in my sleep?"

Oliver stares at him incredulously. "_That's_ what you took from that? You said that you wanted to lick _jelly_ off me."

"Hmm," Clark pretending to think about it. "Licking raspberry jelly off your hot body," looking Oliver up and down with lust in his eyes. "I _love_ the sound of that," he says in a voice one octave deeper than his usual tone as his hand gently palms Oliver's groin.

Oliver's eyes flash for a moment before he suddenly spins Clark around so that he was facing the railing. "You are a _very _bad boy and must be punished," he mutters in his ear as he grips both of Clark's wrists with one hand and raises his arms, holding them securely above his head.

"What do you think you're doing?" Clark asks as Oliver presses his front against Clark's backside and begins to rub it up and down. "We have company in the other room," he whispers in a nervous tone.

"That is _such_ a turn-on," Oliver whispers in his ear. Clark moans softly as Oliver's free hand begins to stroke his length through the fabric of his sweatpants.

"Ahh," Clark gasps out.

"Shh," Oliver gently chides him. "Do you want them hearing you?"

"Ollie."

"What?" Oliver asks as his fingers squeeze harder.

"Are you gonna…"

"No, I'm not gonna f*ck you if that's what you're asking, but I _will_ make you cum," Oliver replies huskily as he increases the pressure on Clark's backside. "I will f*ck you later though," squeezing Clark's length even harder. When Clark gasps out again, Oliver grabs the jelly donut.

"Shut up," shoving the donut into his mouth.

Clark throws back his head, his back stiffening. Oliver removes his hands and takes a few steps backwards and watches as Clark comes hard, his body shuddering as his fingers let go of the railing and he slides down to the floor on his hands and knees.

Oliver stoops down behind him and lowers his lips to Clark's ear. "I think you need to change your pants," eyeing the dampness of the front of Clark's sweatpants before standing up. "I'll tell them that you got some jelly on your pants and had to go upstairs to change," giving him a soft kiss behind his ear before heading in the direction of the kitchen.

Clark stands up and leans back against the railing. _Wow, _was his first thought as he pulls the donut out of his mouth, his breathing slowly returning to normal. His second thought as he climbed the stairs and walked to his closet was how he was going to get back at Oliver.

"Where's Clark? Is everything alright?" Martha asks as Oliver re-enters the kitchen.

"Everything is fine," he answers back as he sits back down. "He got some jelly on his pants so he went upstairs to change them."

Martha turns to Jonathan. "You _did_ get some maple donuts for Lois, didn't you?" arching a brow at him.

"Of course I did," rolling his eyes as he takes out another box from one of the bags. "Here's a dozen of them," setting it down on the table. "Are you happy now?"

"Very," grinning back at him.

He rolls his eyes again but can't help laughing a little. "_What's_ so funny?" Clark asks as he comes into the kitchen.

"Not important," says Jonathan as Clark sits down next to Oliver. "So tell me," turning to Clark. "What did you think of the opera?"

"I loved it," he replies, his hand slipping beneath the tablecloth.

"What was your favorite part?" Martha asks him next.

Oliver stifles a gasp when he feels Clark's hand slip inside the front of his pants. "Are you okay, Oliver? You look a little flushed," Clark asks with a straight face.

"Uh…yeah…" he mutters as he tries to keep his voice level while Clark's fingers are firmly stroking his length at a brisk pace. "Just…fine," looking over at Clark with narrowed eyes.

"I'm happy to hear that," Clark replies with a wicked grin. The conversation stills when the doorbell rings. His hand lets go and he stares anxiously at the front door.

"I'll get it," Jimmy says as he gets up from his chair and walks towards the front door. They all continue to sit there in silence as they hear the door open and the sound of voices. Jimmy comes back into the kitchen. "Lois," he says in a low voice as he sits back down on his chair.

Everybody watches with curiosity as Lois approaches the kitchen and stops in the doorway of the kitchen, a little surprised at first by how many people were sitting at the table. "Clark?"

"Hi, Lois," Clark says in a nervous tone as he stands up. "How's your father?" he asks as he walks a little closer to her.

"The doctors say he's going to be okay. He'll require a lot of physical therapy though," she replies, sounding a little nervous herself as she takes a few steps towards him. "So you came," turning in Oliver's direction.

"I did," he replies as he rises to his feet. "You were right. Five years is too long to have bad blood between us."

"Are you sure you didn't come to that realization because of Clark?"

Both Clark and Oliver stare at her for a moment before Clark answers her question. "You saw the picture in the paper this morning, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," nodding her head. "I was very upset at first because you didn't tell me yourself, but then it was pointed out to me that you probably wanted to tell me in person instead of on the phone."

"_What_ picture?" both Chloe and Jimmy ask at the same time.

"We'll tell you later," Clark replies without looking at them as he walks over to Lois. "In answer to your question, _yes, _I did want to tell you in person. "I'm so sorry that you found out the way you did," a sorrowful look on his face. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"You think that sad puppy dog look is gonna sway _me?" _ she rolls her eyes at him before reaching out to punch his shoulder.

"Have you been working out?" a frown appearing on his face as he rubs his shoulder where she punched him.

"I've always been strong," she smirks before her expression turns serious. "So…uh…my father is not the only reason why I came back early," the nervous tone returning to her voice. "There's something I need to tell you. Can we talk alone?"

Clark shakes his head. "I need my family around me now."

"I understand," nodding her head.

She hesitates a long moment before answering. "I'm _so_ sorry, Clark, but I can't marry you after all." He doesn't say anything for a moment. "Clark? Did you hear what I said?" looking at him with a confused expression on her face.

"I heard you," finally speaking up. "So even _before_ you saw the picture in the paper, you decided to break off the engagement. The engagement that was _your_ idea to begin with," his voice starting to rise.

"Clark, what _are_ you talking about?" Oliver interrupts.

"I'm talking about a promise," briefly turning to him before turning back to look at Lois. "_She_ proposed!" pointing a finger at her.

"Don't you point your finger at me, Clark Joseph Kent!" she snaps back. "Will you at least let me finish?"

"This oughta be good," he mumbles under his breath.

Her eyes narrow for a moment, then she takes a deep calming breath and exhales. "I'm getting married."

He stares at her in shock. "You're…what?!"

"I'm getting married," she repeats.

"Who are you marrying?" asks Oliver.

"My ex-boyfriend," she replies.

"When did this happen?" Oliver asks while Clark continues to stand there in stunned silence.

"While I was in Washington," she replies. "He showed up while I was waiting to see my father. He told me that he still loved me and missed me and that us breaking up was a _huge_ mistake. That's when I realized that I was still in love with him, so when he proposed-"

"You had to say yes," Clark speaks up at last.

"Yes," she says softly as she takes his hands in hers. "I didn't plan for it to happen but it just…happened," her eyes glistening a little. "So I'm hoping that you'll forgive _me_ instead of the other way around."

"How about we forgive each other?" his eyes twinkling as he says it.

"Deal," smiling back as they embrace each other. They eventually pull apart and she happens to glance down at the ring on her finger. She slips it off her finger and holds it up between them. "Thank you for giving it to me," she says with emotion in her voice.

"Thank you for accepting it," also sounding emotional as he takes it from her.

"I really meant everything I said that night," she adds as he pockets the ring.

"So did I," he replies as his hand reaches out to touch her cheek.

"We would have made beautiful babies you know."

"We sure would have," chuckling a little before turning serious. "You're gonna make beautiful babies with him too."

"That goes without saying," she snorts as she lightly punches his shoulder and turns in the direction of the table. "Are my eyes deceiving me or is that a box of maple donuts?" arching a brow.

"Help yourself," Martha says with a smile as she lifts the lid.

"Thanks," grinning as Lois grabs a donut and starts munching on it while Clark walks back over to the table and stands next to Oliver.

"Clark, will you marry me?"

Lois nearly chokes on her donut while everybody's jaws drop, but not as low as Clark's.

"_What_ did you just say?" staring up at Oliver with slowly widening eyes.

"_Will you marry me?"_ Oliver repeats

Clark doesn't know what to say at first. "Where's the ring?" he finally says while arching a brow.

"You can borrow mine."

Everybody's head turns towards the hallway. "I believe this should do it," the tall, dark-headed man says as he enters the kitchen. "I _will_ need it back, but there's no rush," he adds in a slightly teasing tone as he holds out a signet ring towards Oliver.

"Thanks," slowly reaching out and taking it.

"I thought you were gonna wait in the limo?" Lois asks him.

"It's not just a woman's prerogative to change their minds," he replies with a smile. "So is everything okay?" he asks as he wraps his arm around her shoulders.

"Fine, but we'll talk about that later," giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Right now there's a proposal going on that you just interrupted."

"I'm sorry about that," turning to look over at Clark and Oliver. "Will you accept my apology?"

"Of course," Oliver nods before turning to face Clark again, but not before he shows everybody the ring. "Clark Joseph Kent, will you marry me?" holding out the ring.

A smile slowly appears on Clark's face. "Yes, Ollie. In front of all these people I'll marry you."

"Do you love him, Clark?" asks Martha.

"Ma, I love him awful," still gazing into Oliver's eyes.

"Oh dear that's too bad," shaking her head with a sigh.

"He loves me," Oliver says softly as he slips the ring on Clark's finger before kissing him and pulling him into his arms for a warm embrace.

Jimmy pulls out a handkerchief and starts to cry. "Honey, are you okay?" Chloe asks him while resting her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm confused," he whispers between sobs.

"You wanna know something? So am I," taking the handkerchief from him and dabbing her own eyes.

"I think that champagne is in order," Jonathan declares and promptly walks over to the refrigerator while everybody is congratulating the two couples.

Clark and Oliver continue to gaze into each other's eyes and hold hands while Martha gives Chloe a champagne glass filled with sparkling apple cider. Jonathan drops a cube of sugar into the last filled champagne glass.

"Everybody take a glass," he says as he takes one and lifts it up. They all pick up a glass and hold them up, waiting for Jonathan to make his toast.

"To Clark and Oliver and Lois and Bruce," turning to the happy couples and smiling at them. "May you both be as happy in your marriages as I am in mine," looking at Martha with a smile and mouthing _Ti amo_ before turning back to face everyone else. "A la familia," taking a sip.

"A la Famila!" everybody declares as they all clink their glasses together before drinking the champagne…


	19. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**

**A couple hours later…**

"Will we be seeing you at all tomorrow?" Martha asks Chloe and Jimmy as she walks with them to the front door.

"Probably not until later in the evening," Jimmy replies while helping Chloe put on her coat.

"We're going over to my parent's house for Christmas dinner around two," she says as she puts on her hat and gloves.

"Well you wish them a Merry Christmas from Jonathan and I," Martha says with a smile as she gives them both a brief hug and a peck on the cheek before opening the door.

"Will do," Chloe smiles back as the two of them exit the house.

Martha closes the door behind them and enters the living room where Clark, Oliver, Lois, and Bruce were sitting on the couch talking while Jonathan was sitting in his recliner reading his paper. "It's been one heck of a morning," she says as she plops down on the chair adjacent to the couch.

"It sure has," Jonathan remarks while reading his paper. Just then the phone rings. "I'll get it," he says and gets up. "Hello?" he answers while cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder.

"So have either one of you decided on a date for the wedding?" Martha asks the two couples.

"We decided to get married in February," Lois replies. "What about you, Smallville?" turning to him.

Clark and Oliver look at each other before Clark answers. "We're getting married in December," he replies.

"_That_ long?" Lois looks at him curiously.

"Our relationship has been such a whirlwind that we decided to take some time to get to know each other better," Oliver says with a smile.

"To each his own," Lois shrugs her shoulders while leaning back against the couch cushions.

They all chuckle as Jonathan comes back into the living room. "That was Kara. She just informed me that they'll be able to make it for Christmas dinner after all."

"I knew it!" Martha exclaims; startling everyone. "I just knew it!"

Jonathan smiles at his wife. "Looks like we'll be having Christmas at the farm after all."

Martha jumps up from her chair. "We need to pick up some more lamb for dinner. And more red potatoes and…" her voice trailing off as she quickly heads for the kitchen. Jonathan can't help chuckling as he follows her out of the room.

Bruce turns to Clark. "So Lois tells me that you still collect _Warrior Angel_ comic books."

"That's true," Clark replies. "I've been collecting them since I was a kid."

"Why him? What do you find so special about him?"

"Because he protects people who can't protect themselves. He's the kind of superhero I would be if I had superpowers," he replies back with a smile on his face.

"That's my _Smallville_ alright," Lois chuckles lightly. "So if you had superpowers, what would your superhero name be?"

"I don't know. "Probably something with the word 'man' in it I suppose."

"How about…_Sexy Man?"_ Oliver says in a teasing tone.

"Nah," Clark shakes his head.

"He may be 'Sexy Man' to you, but I don't think that's quite right," Lois replies with a smirk. "Now what about a costume?"

"Who says I have to wear one?" Clark asks her.

"All superhero's have to wear a costume of some sort," she quips. "I think yours should be red and blue because those are your favorite colors. Maybe with a touch of gold, or yellow perhaps. And a cape. Yes, definitely a cape," starting to sound a little excited.

"A cape?" scrunching up his face. "I don't know about that."

"Doesn't _Warrior Angel_ have a cape?" asks Oliver.

"He has _wings_, not a cape," Clark corrects him.

"But he _does_ fly, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Clark looks at him leery.

"Wouldn't a cape help with the aero dynamics?" Oliver asks as he grins back at him.

"I wouldn't know about that," his eyes narrowing slightly.

"So what about _you_, Ollie?" Lois asks him. "What would your superhero persona be?"

"I think if I were a superhero, it would probably involve archery," Oliver remarks. "In fact, I already have my very own superhero name."

"Oh?" Lois looks at him curiously. "What is it?"

"Green Arrow," Clark interjects, flashing Oliver a wink back.

She thinks about it for a moment. "Ollie's favorite color is green and he loves archery. That's perfect."

"Mmm, Oliver in green leather," a far away look in Clark's eyes.

The other three look over at him. "What?" a puzzled expression on his face.

"Never mind," says Lois, rolling her eyes slightly.

"So what about _you_, Bruce?" Clark asks, changing the focus away from himself.

"What _about_ me?" a wondering expression on his face.

"What would your superhero persona be?" Clark asks him.

"It's not something I've ever thought about," he replies. "My parents died when I was young so I never really got into all the childhood stuff like comic books and superheroes," a trace of sadness in his voice.

"Well I already know what yours would be," Lois grins back at him smugly.

"I'm probably going to regret asking this, but…" hesitating a moment. "What is it?" he finally asks.

"Batman."

"Batman? Why Batman?" Clark asks her.

"I believe I can answer this one," Oliver pipes up. "I've known Bruce ever since we went to Excelsior together so believe me when I say that he definitely has a dark side."

"But _why_ Batman?" Clark turns to him.

"He loves bats," Oliver replies quickly with a smirk on his face.

"So do you want to drive out to the farm now or later?" Jonathan asks while watching Martha pack up some of the food from the refrigerator.

"I was thinking a little later," she replies as she closes the refrigerator and walks over to the stovetop, picking up the spatula she left there earlier.

He walks over to her and puts his arm around her waist. "I had a different thought," leaning forward until their mouths are only a few inches apart.

"Oh?" looking up into his eyes with curiosity.

"If we left now we'd have the farm to ourselves – at least until tonight when Kara and the family arrive so…" his voice trailing off as his lips meet hers in a gentle kiss.

She drops the spatula, her arms coming around his waist as the kiss intensifies. His other hand moves downward from the small of her back, cupping her backside. "So…" slowly pulling his head away and gazing down at her.

She smiles up at him before walking over to the kitchen table. He has a look of bewilderment on his face as she picks up the bags of groceries. "What are you waiting for?" shoving the bags at him. "Let's hit the road," flashing him a coy wink as she exits the kitchen and heads back to the living room. "Clark, your father and I will be heading for the farm to get things ready for tomorrow."

"Will you need any help?" Clark asks as he gets up.

"We have things under control," she replies as she walks over to him. "Your father and I talked about it, and we decided to stay there tonight so that you and Oliver could have some privacy to celebrate your engagement." _I __hate__ lying to him, but some things are just __sooo__ worth it, _a barely suppressed grin on her face.

Clark starts to open his mouth but she quickly puts her finger over it. "There's _no_ changing our minds," she says while pressing her lips against his cheek. "Oliver," she says as she walks over to him. "I hope you'll be able to join us tomorrow."

"I would love to," he says with a smile. "When is dinner?"

"Around four," she replies.

"That's perfect," he replies back. "I have to be somewhere for ten tomorrow morning but I should be there for dinner in plenty of time."

"Where are you going?" asks Clark.

"To serve lunch at a homeless shelter," he tells him. "It's something I do every year for Christmas."

Clark looks into his eyes. "I think I just fell more in love with you," he say in a slightly emotional voice. "Could you use some more help?" he asks.

"Absolutely," gazing back at him.

"So what about the commitment you have later today?"

"Actually I have _two_ commitments," he replies. "One is at another homeless shelter, then the one after that is at a nearby orphanage."

"Could you use help for those too?"

"We always need help," smiling back at him. "Santa could _definitely_ use an assistant," Oliver's eyes twinkling.

"_You're_ Santa?" Clark looks at him with surprise.

"That's right, and _proud_ of it," a big grin on his face.

"So will you be wearing a Santa suit?" Clark quirks his brow.

"Absolutely," Oliver replies. "And a Santa hat too," winking back at him.

_I knew that Smallville probably had some fetishes, but this takes the cake, _Lois thinks while listening to Clark and Oliver banter back and forth. _Should I tell Clark that Ollie is into spanking? Nah, I'll let him find out about that juicy little nugget on his own. It'll be more fun for him that way, _she chuckles to herself_._

Jonathan comes out of the kitchen carrying several canvas bags filled with groceries. "We should get going," he tells her as he sets them down on the hallway table so he could put on his coat.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Martha turns to Clark. "There's some leftover spaghetti in the refrigerator that you can have for dinner if you want."

"Don't forget about the sausages and the meatballs," adds Jonathan as he puts on his hat and picks up the canvas bags.

"I do love a delicious, _thick_ sausage," says Clark, looking at Oliver out of the corner of his eye and licking his lips.

"The meatballs sound delicious too," Oliver replies with a wink.

Martha and Jonathan give both of them curious looks, but say nothing. "We'll see you all tomorrow," giving everybody a brief hug.

"See you then," Clark waves back at them as his parents exit the house. He closes the door and looks back at Oliver, Bruce, and Lois. "Looks like it's just the four of us," he says as he returns to the living room and sits back down next to Oliver on the couch. "So what do you want to do now?"

"How about we play a game? _Truth or Dare_ comes to mind," Lois says with a coy grin.

"I'm not in the mood to play a game," Bruce shaking his head.

Oliver rolls his eyes. "You really need to loosen up, Bruce."

"He's working on it," Lois is quick to pipe up. "So who wants to go first?" looking around the room before her eyes land on her fiancé. "I think _you_ should have the honor," pointing at him. "So which is it gonna be, truth or dare?"

"I don't care for either one," he replies in a cool tone.

"Then I'll pick one for you," she says. "I pick…truth."

His eyes narrow at her for a moment. "Fine, but just the one question so you better make it a good one."

She takes a minute or so to think about it. "I have a question that I've always wanted to ask you."

"I don't like the sound of that," he replies with a scowl on his face. "Alright. Ask the damn question."

She takes a deliberate pause first. "Have you _ever_ been intimate with a man?"

Both Clark and Oliver's jaws drop. "I can't believe you just asked him that question," Clark finally speaks up while shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well? Have you?" Lois asks him.

"I must admit my curiosity is piqued," Oliver says with an arch of his brow. "So answer the question already."

Bruce's eyes darken for a moment before he answers. "Yes."

It's Lois' turn for her jaw to drop. "You have? When?"

"Seven years ago," he replies. After Rachel died, I was in a particularly dark place so I went to a club. It was the only time in my life that I ever got drunk," pausing for a moment. "This one guy sat down on the stool next to me. We started talking and-"

"Do you remember _anything_ about the guy?" Oliver interrupts.

"Not too much," he answers back. "He was tall with black hair, but the thing I remember the most about him was his eyes. One minute they would look a bluish-green, the next as blue as the deepest ocean. Even though I'm not gay, I just _knew_ that I was going to have him so I grabbed his hand and led him to-"

"The men's bathroom."

Bruce looks over at Clark, whose face looked as if the blood had drained away. "How did you know that?" Bruce asks him.

Clark gulps thickly before he says, "Was it in the last stall?"

"Yes," he replies.

"Did this encounter take place at the Ace of Clubs?"

"Yes," he says again, his eyes widening as it suddenly occurs to him.

"That was _you?"_ they both exclaim at the same time.

"I don't believe this!" Lois exclaims, rising from her chair and looking down at her fiancé with her hands on her hips. "Of all the men in this world, why did it have to be Clark?"

"Hey!" Clark retorts, glaring up at her.

"It was a one-night stand, Lois. That's all it was," Bruce declares, turning to Clark. "Clark, I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry for how I treated you and for leaving the way I did. It's not a good excuse, but I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind at the time and-"

"Stop _right_ there," Clark interrupts as he stands up. "I wasn't in the right frame of mind either that night. I wanted it as much as you did, but for different reasons. I know this is going to sound strange, but I have you to thank for my realizing at last that I was gay. So…thank you," holding out his hand.

Bruce hesitates a moment, then takes it. "You're quite welcome," he replies. They share a little laugh before Bruce says, "I have a question of my own for Miss Lane," turning to her. Have _you_ ever been intimate with…say…a woman?" quirking one of his brows.

She turns a deep red at his question. "Once in college but I was drunk at the time. It didn't mean anything," she hisses through clenched teeth.

"Alright then," he declares. "We've both had an encounter with someone of the same sex so I think that makes us even," resting his hands on her shoulders. "Can we agree to leave it in the past where it belongs?" looking deep into her eyes.

She nods her head. "Okay," slowly beginning to smile as he lowers his lips to hers.

Clark turns to Oliver. "You've been awfully quiet. Aren't you shocked about any of this?" looking at him curiously.

"Are you _kidding?_ The stories I could tell you about my college days would make your _toes_ curl," he says with laughter in his voice.

"So you're not upset about Bruce being the first man I ever…you know…" his voice trailing off.

"Not as long as I get to be the last man you ever…you know…" winking back at him.

"You have yourself a deal, Mr. Queen," Clark declares and promptly gives him a passionate kiss on the lips.

"Well on that note, I think we should probably get going," Lois tells Bruce. "Lucy and I are supposed to meet up and visit the General at the rehab center."

"Don't forget about dinner tomorrow," Clark says to her as he walks over to the coat rack with them.

"Wild horses wouldn't keep me away from Mrs. K's lamb," she says with a grin as they put on their coats.

Clark turns to Bruce. "It was very nice to see you again."

"You too, Clark," shaking the extended hand in front of him.

"Before you go, I want to tell you one thing," he says after letting go. "If I find out that you've hurt my girl in any way, I will forget about being a gentleman and make you pay dearly. You do know that, don't you?"

Bruce lays his hands on Clark's shoulders. "I do, and I promise to always love and respect Lois."

"Good," Clark says as he takes a step back and opens the front door.

"Bye, Clark," Lois says while giving him a hug. "I love you, Smallville," she whispers in his ear.

"I love you too, Lo," he whispers back. "Be happy."

"You too," pressing her lips against his cheek, then pulls away and walks out the front door.

"See you tomorrow at dinner," he calls out to them as they descend the stairs.

She turns around in front of the limo. "Was it just me, or was your father actually friendly with me today?" looking up at him curiously.

"It's not just you," Clark replies with a smile.

"He didn't mention the article at all – yet he was cool towards me last night when I stopped by," a bewildered expression on her face. "I don't understand your father sometimes."

"I don't know what to tell you about that," shrugging his shoulders. "It's just his way if you know what I mean."

"I _always_ know what you mean," rolling her eyes as she steps inside the limo and closes the door.

As Bruce opens the other door, Clark calls out to him. "You do know she's a handful, don't you?"

Bruce looks up at him and smiles. "I wouldn't have her any other way," winking back at him as he gets in and sits down beside her, closing the door.

Clark watches as the limo pulls away from the curb. Oliver comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist. "Are you aware that we now have the entire house to ourselves?" he whispers while pressing his lips lightly behind Clark's ear. "So many rooms to christen and so little time," his hot breath tickling Clark's skin.

"How about we start with the living room?" Clark cranes his head and looks up into his fiancés hazel eyes.

"You don't have to ask _me_ twice," grabbing Clark's hand and pulling him back into the house, kicking the front door shut with his foot. "Let's get these clothes off," he declares and reaches for Clark's belt buckle.

"_Not_ so fast," Clark pushes him away. "You first," he says with a smirk as he sits down on the couch and looks up at Oliver with twinkling eyes.

"Alright," slowly beginning to strip by first toeing off his shoes, then taking off the shirt. Clark's eyes begin to dilate with lust as the pants come off, then finally the silk boxers. "Like what you see?" Oliver asks while standing there in front of Clark in his bare form.

"I _love_ what I see," Clark replies huskily. "Now come over here," patting his lap.

"Aren't you gonna take _your_ clothes off?" he asks as he starts to straddle Clark's lap.

"Not just yet," suddenly pushing Oliver down so that he was lying on his stomach across his lap.

"What the f-" craning his head to look up at Clark.

"You were a _bad_ boy for what you pulled on me this morning, and now you're gonna pay for it," Clark replies in a stern voice.

"You're gonna spank me?" Oliver's eyes widening.

"You better believe it," Clark nods his head.

"Did Lois tell you I was into that kind of thing?"

Clark's eyebrows arch at that question. "No, but I got the impression you were when I first brought it up during our IM chat. You sounded _very_ turned on by the mere thought of it."

"I was," Oliver replies. "I still am," winking up at him.

"Good," Clark replies. "Now before we get started, there's just one thing I have to do," pulling out the Santa hat from his pants pocket and placing it on top of Oliver's head. "_That's_ better," he declares with satisfaction. "So are you ready for your spanking?"

"I'm absolutely ready," Oliver replies with a big grin as Clark raises his hand above his naked backside.

"I'm gonna spank you _so_ hard that your ass will be as red as a cherry and you won't be able to sit down for a week," Clark's deep voice sending shivers up and down Oliver's spine as he swiftly lowers his hand.

"Ahh," Oliver cries out as Clark's hand makes hard contact with his skin.

"You just love being spanked, _don't_ you?" Clark whispers throatily as he alternates the smacks between each of Oliver's cheeks.

"Yes!" Oliver gasps out, his head dropping down and his ass twitching from the pleasurable assault. When Clark feels that Oliver has been sufficiently spanked to his satisfaction, he stops and slips his index finger between Oliver's cheeks, pushing it inside him as deep as it could go before adding a second finger then eventually a third.

Oliver's fingers grips the couch cushions as Clark thrusts his fingers hard inside him. "Oh, _my_," moaning loudly as Clark's other hand reaches beneath him to firmly pull and squeeze his length.

"Now it's _your_ turn to cum," Clark tells him in a firm tone.

"Yes!" Oliver screams out, the shudders from his orgasm reverberating throughout his body all the way down to his curled up toes…

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	20. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

**A few minutes later…**

"So did you like your spanking?"

"Loved it, but my ass is still stinging," Oliver quips as they spoon together on the couch, his hand idly caressing Clark's stomach.

"Well you deserved it," Clark replies, looking up at him.

"That I did," smiling down at him before lowering his lips and pressing them lightly against Clarks. They both emit soft sighs as they lay there for a while just kissing before needing to pull apart and catch their breaths.

"So would you like something to soothe the sting?" Clark quirks his brow.

"Very much," Oliver replies back in a teasing tone. "What do you have in mind?"

"Patience, my dear Mr. Queen," Clark says coyly as he slips off the couch and walks out to the room.

Oliver was still lying on his stomach when Clark returns, his brows arching at what was in his hands. "Well that's certainly an interesting choice," he remarks as Clark kneels down between Oliver's legs.

"Well you _did_ ask my father to put one aside for you," a wicked grin on his face as he holds the donut above Oliver's backside and starts to squeeze it.

"Oh," Oliver gasps out as the cool jelly hits his reddened skin.

"So you like it?" Clark queries as he squeezes the rest of the jelly out of the donut, then sets the donut down on the coffee table and begins to gently rub it all over Oliver's cheeks.

"I do," Oliver mumbles as Clark continues with his gentle ministrations.

"Well I think you're gonna like this even better," lowering his head.

"Mmm," Oliver whispers softly as Clark proceeds to lick every bit of jelly off his backside. "You were right," he declares after Clark was finished. "I did like it better," smiling up at him. "And you got to fulfill _your_ fantasy too," winking at Clark.

"I sure did," Clark smiles back as he grabs a washcloth that he had gotten from the kitchen at the same time as the donut and carefully wipes off the stickiness left behind. "So what do you want to do now?" he asks while sitting back down.

Oliver slips off the couch and stands up, looking down at him. "I'd like to see your bedroom," holding out his gloved hand.

Clark gets back up and takes his hand in his. "I would _love_ to show you my bedroom," leading him upstairs.

"This is nice," Oliver remarks, looking around while Clark turns down the bed.

"I like it, but now I love it because you're here," he replies in a sensual tone while stripping off his clothes and climbing onto the bed. "So what are you waiting for?" arching a brow as he lays on his side while striking a sexy pose and lightly stroking himself up and down.

Oliver doesn't hesitate to crawl onto the bed and lies down next to him. "Let me have the pleasure," Oliver whispers throatily, pushing Clark's hand away.

Clark's eyes flutter shut as Oliver's hand massages his length. "Feels good doesn't it?" Oliver mutters while nibbling on Clark's neck.

"Yes," he whispers back. "But there's something else that would feel even _better_."

"Oh?" Oliver quirks his brow. "Tell me what it is, Mr. Kent," his fingers stroking Clark's length harder.

Clark opens his eyes and looks into Oliver's eyes. "Me inside you."

Oliver lets go. "You read my mind," he quips as he lies on his back and spreads his legs apart so Clark could kneel between them. Oliver locks his ankles behind his upper back as Clark positions himself between his cheeks.

Oliver gasps out softly, his back arching as Clark slowly sinks deep inside him.

Clark smiles down at his lover. "I love you," he whispers in a voice full of emotion.

"Ditto," Oliver winks back at him just before their lips press together, fingers intertwining as their bodies rock together in harmony to the sound of their beating hearts…

**A short time later…**

"I'm glad you're a spooner," Clark says as they lay together, his back resting against Oliver's chest.

"Me too," pressing his lips against Clark's neck.

"You wanna know something else?"

"What?" looking down at Clark.

"You were right when you said you were gonna ruin me for any other man," smiling up at him.

"Of course I was," lowering his head and pressing his lips against Clark's.

"I wish it could always be like this," Clark says wistfully after they pull apart.

"I know," Oliver replies. "There's nothing I would love better than just to be with you."

"I feel the same," Clark replies with a sigh. "It's just that we have the type of careers that force us to be away a lot."

"Yeah," Oliver also sighs. "But we _can_ make the effort to spend more time together. The last thing I want is for our relationship to suffer because our careers are getting in the way."

"I agree," says Clark.

"So I've decided to cut down the number of business trips I go on," Oliver tells him. "If I can manage it with video chat, then I will."

"You really mean that?" Clark cranes his head to look up at him.

"Yes," he replies, his hands moving up to cup his face. "Our relationship is more important," softly kissing his lips.

Clark rolls on his side and faces his fiancé. "Thank you," leaning forward to kiss him. After pulling away he adds, "Now that we're engaged, there are a few things we should talk about."

"I know," nodding his head. "So do you wanna talk now or later?"

"Let's talk now and get it over with," Clark replies, propping himself up on one elbow. "I think we should start with the living situation. As I see it, we have several options. The first is my moving in with you at the penthouse. The second is you moving in here with me and my parents."

"What's the third?" Oliver asks him.

"Well…" hesitating for a moment. "We stay exactly where we are right now until we get married, then decide where to live at that time. After all, we did agree to the one year engagement so that we could get to know each other better."

"Hmm," a thoughtful expression on Oliver's face. "You know there's a _fourth_ option."

"Oh?" a curious look on Clark's face.

"How about we buy a place of our own now? Jimmy and Chloe told me during breakfast that the house on the other side of them is about to go on the market. They said it's in pretty decent condition, but it needs a little work. We can continue living in our respective places while the renovation is going on, _then_ move in together."

Clark's mouth forms a small 'o' at Oliver's suggestion. "You wouldn't mind moving out of your penthouse and into a place right near my parents?"

"Not at all," he replies. "I wouldn't sell the penthouse though. We could still use it whenever we need a night away from home or if one of us is out of town or working late. I sometimes have the occasional soiree there but they're usually business related – _although_ sometimes I like to throw one for fun. So what do you think?"

Clark thinks about it for a few moments. "Let's do it, but on one condition."

"Alright. What is it?"

"I want it to be _our_ house so-"

"You don't want me buying it with just my money," Oliver interrupts.

"Yeah," Clark replies. "For years I've been saving money for something important like a house or a condo perhaps. I want to use some of it for the down payment. I want us to pay for it _together_."

"I see," lying on his back, his arms folded across his chest.

"Do you have a problem with that?" a worried look on his face.

"Of course not," Oliver's quick to reply. "I guess I just assumed that I would pay for it. It's not as if I don't have the money," turning on his side again. "I just want to make you happy."

"You don't need to buy me things to make me happy," Clark replies. "You already make me happy," reaching over to stroke his cheek. "We're in this thing together. Clark and Oliver. That's a couple."

"Will you at _least_ let me buy you a proper ring?" his finger tracing around the edge of the signet ring of Bruce's. "I don't want a daily reminder that he was the first man that you ever had sex with."

"I thought it didn't bother you?" Clark asks in a curious tone.

"Well, maybe it does just a _tiny_ bit," Oliver admits, holding his index finger and thumb close together. "Look, I would feel better if you were wearing something that _I_ picked out for you. Okay?"

"Okay," Clark gazes up at him, his eyes glistening a little. "How about you buy me one and I buy you one?"

"You have yourself a deal," he replies with a quick nod of his head as they seal the deal with a kiss. "So have I told you lately that I love you?"

"You told me a couple days ago but I wouldn't mind a repeat," Clark replies with a smile.

"If I recall, after I said it you slapped me twice then told me to snap out of it," he frowns slightly. "Now that I think about it, maybe _you_ should have been the one to get the spanking instead of me."

"Uh…" Clark stammers slightly as he starts slowly inching away, but Oliver catches on and immediately straddles his chest, effectively pinning his arms down. "You need to be punished for slapping me the way you did."

"No," Clark shakes his head as he tries in vain to pull out from beneath Oliver.

"You're not going _anywhere, _Boy Scout," Oliver declares. "Maybe not now, but you'll get your spanking in due time. No sense in both of us being unable to sit down at Christmas dinner tomorrow," his eyes twinkling mischievously as he shifts his body slightly. "So you said there were a _few_ things that we needed to talk about?"

"Are you gonna let me go first?" Clark quirks his brow while ignoring the question.

"Nope," Oliver shakes his head, a smirky grin on his face. "You're my prisoner until I say so," lowering his lips to Clark's chest. "So tell me what else you wanted to talk about," he says just as his mouth is surrounding one of Clark's nipples.

"I…uh…" groaning at the delightful sensation of Oliver's teeth nipping his sensitive bud.

"What?" Oliver asks while the fingertips of his other hand rolls Clark's other nipple between them.

"It's..uh…not an easy subject to bring up but…" gasping out yet again as Oliver's backside rubs against his rapidly hardening length.

"Let me take a _wild_ guess," Oliver says at last after he removes his mouth and fingers from Clark's nipples. "Is it about you signing a pre-nuptial agreement?"

Clark stares up at him with shock. "How on earth did you know _that?"_

"I figured we'd be talking about it at some point - but when you started out with 'it's not an easy subject to bring up,' that's when I figured out what you were trying to say."

"So what are your thoughts on the subject? Do you want me to sign one?"

Oliver takes a long pause before finally answering. "I trust you and I know that we'll be together forever, but I also have be practical because of the company and-"

"I understand," Clark replies. "Queen Industries was started by your parents and you've done an _incredible _job running it. I had absolutely _nothing_ to do with it."

"So you're saying that you'll sign one?"

"Yes," Clark nods his head. "I _insist_ on it," a determined look on his face. "I don't want anybody thinking that I'm marrying you for reasons other than love."

"I don't care what most people think," Oliver tells him. "The only people whose opinions I care about the most are you and your family."

"Don't forget our closest friends too," Clark quips.

Oliver chuckles lightly as he lifts himself up so that Clark could move his arms. "After the holidays are over, I'll have my lawyers draw up a first draft. If there's anything that you don't approve of, we'll talk about it until we come up with something that you _do _approve of. How does that sound to you?"

"Sounds fine to me," reaching up to draw Oliver down on his body, his fingers roaming up and down Oliver's bare back. "I must admit to being a little relieved."

"Why is that?" Oliver looks at him curiously.

"Like I said before, it's not an easy subject to bring up," Clark replies as his fingers move downward to lightly squeeze Oliver's cheeks.

"The subject of money never is," Oliver says. "So we've covered two major issues. Do you want to go for a third and talk about when you want to have kids or do you want to take a break from talking and just have some fun?"

"I think I'll go with _fun_," Clark replies with a big grin. "We can talk about kids later."

"Sounds fine by me," Oliver replies as his fingers quickly find Clark's ticklish spots, their laughter echoing throughout the house…

**A couple hours later…**

"I'm glad I came with you," Clark tells Oliver as he scoops out some corn and places it on someone's plate.

"Me too," smiling back while using a pair of tongs to put a few pieces of ham next to the corn.

"So how long have you been doing this?" Clark asks as he put some corn on the next person's plate.

"Since I came back from the island," he replies. "So what about you? Do you do any charitable work?"

"On occasion, but not as often as I'd like," a wistful expression on Clark's face.

"Well anytime you want to help out, just let me know."

"I will," smiling again at him. "So when do you think we'll be finished here?"

"About a half hour," he replies back. "That's when we change shifts."

"Okay," nodding his head as they continue serving the people in line…

**A few hours later…**

"Do you have any aloe vera?" Oliver asks as they climb the stairs. "Sitting down on my ass for the last couple hours in that Santa suit really did a number on it," he complains as they enter the house.

"There's some in the bathroom upstairs," Clark informs him as he locks the front door. "Check the medicine cabinet."

"I'll be right back," Oliver replies, heading up the stairs as Clark goes into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator, taking out several containers of leftovers. Oliver returns a few minutes later just as Clark was placing two plates into the microwave. "Those meatballs look good," sidling up behind Clark.

Clark leans back against his chest. "Is that a sausage in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" craning his head and looking up at him with a teasing glint in his eyes.

"The second one," he replies as Clark turns around in his arms. "That's what I thought," his head leaning forward.

"You have the softest lips," Oliver murmurs as they continue kissing. "What's your secret?"

"Cherry flavored Chapstick," he whispers back.

"I thought it was cherry," he replies after their lips part. "No raspberry?"

"They don't make it in raspberry," he says just as the timer goes off. "Dinner is ready," giving him one more kiss before leaving Oliver's arms and opening the door to the microwave. "Damn!" he exclaims and drops the plate.

Oliver takes a look at his hand. "We should put something on that before it blisters," he tells him. "Where's your first aid box?"

"Over there," pointing to one of the cabinets.

Oliver retrieves the box and comes back to Clark, pulling out some ointment and a bandage.

"So what did you do when you were on the island?" he asks as Oliver squeezes some of the ointment onto the burn.

"I was lucky that there was a plant on the island that had soothing properties," he replies as he carefully places the bandage on Clark's hand.

"How did you know that?" Clark asks next.

"I remembered what I learned in my botany class in college," closing up the first aid box. "Does that feel better? he asks while raising Clark's bandaged hand and softly pressing his lips to his fingers.

"_Much_ better," Clark replies back with a smile. "Remind me to use a potholder next time."

"I will," Oliver chuckles as they continue gazing at each other until somebody's stomach rumbles. "Sounds like somebody is hungry," Oliver says in a teasing tone.

"Starving, actually," Clark replies as he looks down at the food and the broken remains of the plate on the floor. "I better clean that up."

"You're hand is bandaged. I'll do it," Oliver declares. "Just tell me where your Mom keeps the rags and the cleaning supplies."

"They're in the cabinet under the sink," Clark tells him.

While Oliver is cleaning up the mess, Clark puts some more food on another plate and puts it into the microwave to heat up. Once the timer goes off, he uses a potholder to remove the two dishes. "Honey, dinner is ready," he says with a laugh as he sets the plates down on the kitchen table along with the napkins and utensils.

Oliver rinses out the rag and drapes it over the faucet to dry before coming over. "I think I'll eat standing up," picking up the plate and fork. "Red ass, you know," winking at Clark as he twirls the spaghetti around his fork and inserts it in his mouth.

"Then I'll eat standing up too," Clark replies and promptly stands up too.

"Your mother is an excellent cook," Oliver says as he's eating one of the meatballs. "You must get that from her."

"I'm pretty good, but not as good as she is," Clark remarks as he's biting into the sausage.

"What about your father?"

"His specialty is barbecuing," he replies. "Sounds like a cliché doesn't it?'

"Some people might think so," he shrugs as he polishes off the rest of the spaghetti and sets the plate down in the sink just as Clark is finishing his up. "So now what?" he asks as he also puts Clark's plate in the sink.

"How about we watch _A Christmas story?"_

"I thought it was on earlier?" Oliver asks him.

"TBS runs it for twenty-four hours straight," Clark replies while looking at his watch. "It should be starting up again in about twenty minutes."

"Okay, but what should we do until then?" wiggling his brows

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Ollie," Clark warns him.

"Nah," waving him off. "It's too much fun there," wrapping his arms around Clark's waist. "How about I strip you naked, bend you over the couch, and-"

"Haven't you had enough sex for one day?" Clark interrupts him.

"With you, it'll never be enough," his hands moving downward to cup Clark's backside. "So come on. What do you say?" arching his brow.

Clark just rolls his eyes. "I think we could do something a _little_ more constructive," walking out of the kitchen and into the living room.

"I doubt it," a slightly disappointed look on his face. "Mark my words. I _will_ have you over that couch," he declares as he follows Clark. "What's that?" he asks as Clark sits down on the couch with a large book on his lap.

"I thought you might like to see some pictures of me when I was younger," looking up at him as he walks over to the couch.

"Sure, why not," starting to sit down but then he winces. "Maybe I should take these pants off," he remarks, giving Clark a sly grin.

"If it'll make you feel more comfortable," Clark replies with a straight face as he opens the photo album.

"Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for," Oliver pouts as he takes off his shoes then most of his clothes. "That feels _much_ better," he declares as he kneels down on the couch next to Clark clad only in his satin boxers. "So when was that one taken?" pointing to one of the pictures.

"That one was taken on my tenth birthday," he replies.

"And that one?" pointing to another one as he drapes his arm loosely around Clark's shoulders.

"I think that was when I was in my freshman year of high school."

"Who's the beauty?" Oliver pointing to another picture of Clark in a tuxedo, his arm linked with a girl wearing a spaghetti-strapped ice blue dress.

Clark gazes at the picture, his eyes moistening before finally answering. "That's me and my late wife at our senior prom."

Oliver takes a closer look. "Clark and Abigail," reading the caption. "So _that_ was her name."

"Didn't I tell you?" looking over at him.

"Nope," Oliver says.

"I thought I did," Clark says as they continue looking at the picture. "My bad," turning the page. "Now _this_ was my first serious girlfriend," pointing to another picture. "Lana," he says with a smile.

"She's beautiful. You met her in high school too?" asks Oliver.

"Yeah," he says. "I remember seeing her on the first day of school. She was so beautiful. I was almost afraid to approach her, but I decided to take the chance. Of course I stumbled over my own feet and fell down on the sidewalk about six feet in front of her," chuckling at the memory. "She came over and helped me gather up my books."

"That was nice of her," Oliver remarks.

"It was," he answers back. "When she saw the book I had on Nietzshe, she asked me if I was man or superman."

"Superman," a thoughtful expression on Oliver's face. "Now _that_ sounds like the perfect superhero name for you."

"Nah," Clark scoffs.

"Well I like it, but I'm still gonna call you _Sexy Man – _at least in private anyway," Oliver grins wickedly at him. Clark just rolls his eyes at him. "So do you know what happened to her?" he asks next.

"She married another high school friend of mine, Pete Ross. He's a lawyer. She owns and operates an art gallery in Paris. The last time I talked to them was about a week ago on _Skype_."

"Do they have any kids?"

"A boy and a girl," Clark replies as he picks up the remote. "Now how about we watch the movie?" switching on the television. "So do you have a favorite line?" Clark asks as the opening credits begin to play.

Oliver thinks about it for a moment. "If I had to pick one, it would be the line when Ralphie is talking about the soft glow of electric sex."

"That figures. I bet you can turn even the most innocent thing into something sexual. You're just like Joey on _Friends_," Clark says with another roll of his eyes.

"_You're_ one to talk," Oliver replies with a snort. "Have you forgotten about the jelly donuts?" arching one brow.

"Touché," Clark chuckles as they continue watching the movie. That's when the doorbell rings. "Who could that be?" Clark wonders out loud as he walks over to the door and peers through the glass pane.

"Jimmy?" opening the door.

"I need you to do me a favor," coming into the foyer while holding his four year old son. "Can you baby sit Gabe for me?

"Of course," he replies but he can't help being concerned by Jimmy's slightly panicky voice. "What's wrong?" he asks. "Where's Chloe? Is she alright?" his eyes widening at Jimmy's next words.

"I have to take her to the hospital because her water broke. She's in labor."

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


End file.
